Roll Of Thunder
by DustyMonkey
Summary: Sequel to "This Glassy Surface". Alex/Casey. Alex and Casey are married and just starting their lives together, when Casey is forced to keep a terrible secret that nearly destroys her. How will it affect her happy life? How long can she keep it...and what will happen when it's revealed?
1. Chapter 1

**This is the sequel to "This Glassy Surface" and takes place 7 months after that story ends. Told from alternating viewpoints of Alex and Casey. Alex/Casey pairing of course. Rated T for language and intense situations.  
**

**To summarize the story - Alex and Casey are married and just starting their lives together, when something happens that forces Casey to keep a terrible secret...which nearly destroys her. What kind of affect will it have on her personally? And how will it affect her happy life with Alex? Can she keep the secret for long, and what happens when she finally reveals it? Read to find out!  
**

**Casey's POV**

As soon as I open the front door and walk through the kitchen to the living room, I hear Alex's voice.

"I want that chair on more of an angle….and can you move it back further, closer to the wall? Yes, that's good…and put the other chair in the same position on the other side of where the couch is going to be."

I have a huge smile plastered on my face as I enter the living room and see Alex standing in the middle of the room, her back to me, barking orders to the small group of furniture movers in our living room. These poor guys; they look frustrated. I hope my wife hasn't been giving them all kinds of hell.

Alex isn't expecting to see me until later. I just got back from Washington and was supposed to go directly to Senator Palmer's office, but I had to stop by our new house and make sure my wife is behaving herself and hasn't ripped any heads off. She took the day off she could be home when our furniture was delivered.

I sneak up behind her and snake my arm around her waist, causing her to jump in surprise. When she sees it's me, she immediately relaxes. "Casey! I'm so happy to see you!" She pulls me against her and gives me a deep kiss.

"Hi, wifey. I missed you and wanted to see your pretty face before I head to the office." I look around the living room. Nearly all our furniture is moved in, excluding the couch. "And I wanted to see if you wanted me to stay and help you out here? It looks like you have a handle on it, but I'd still be willing to stay."

Alex takes my hand and smiles at me. "I got it; but thanks, sweetheart. How was your flight?"

"Same as it ever is. Nothing exciting," I report. "Not long enough to nap but just long enough to bore me to death."

"That's good. There's a problem with our new couch. The store can't deliver it until the end of the week. So we'll have to make do without it until then."

She seems upset and stressed about this, so I give her a kiss to calm her down a little. She gets too worked up about things she can't change and things that aren't that big of a deal. "That's all right, baby. It will be fine. Being in our house together at last will be wonderful; couch or no couch." A grin breaks out on my face. "Our bed is here, so…"

Alex catches my drift and raises an eyebrow. "Point taken." She returns her attention to the group of movers, who are now watching us awkwardly and awaiting their next set of instructions. "I'm okay here; really. Go ahead and go to work. Just make sure you're home by six. I want to take you out to dinner tonight to celebrate our first official night in our home together."

That sounds perfect to me. I give my wife one last lingering kiss, and then I head back outside. I'm still smiling. In fact, I've been smiling for nearly seven months, since I married the love of my life.

It's now late March. I can't believe how quickly times go back. It seems like just yesterday I was walking down the aisle with my father and looking at Alex in that beautiful dress and knowing my life was never going to be the same again. That was back in August; it seems impossible.

Senator Palmer won his re-election and I'm back in my regular position in his Manhattan office. A nice set schedule, no weekends. I still have to be in Washington every Monday but I've been flying home Monday night or early Tuesday morning and thus far it hasn't become an issue. Most days I'm able to be home by five, or at the very latest, six or six-thirty. Sometimes an issue comes up that requires me to stay longer, but that's rare. And Alex has gotten so she comes home around the same time every night too, so we spend our evenings together.

I love it. We talk about our days and eat dinner together, then go for a walk or cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie. Sometimes we go out to the theater to see a movie or grocery shopping. It doesn't matter what we do; we just love spending time together.

Seven months after the wedding and we're still just as affectionate with each other as we were before we were married. Everyone said the newness would wear off quickly and we'd value private time, but we've found this isn't the case at all. We crave each other's affection and much prefer to be together than to be one on our own.

This is part of the reason I try to fly home from Washington on Monday nights whenever possible. It's hard for me to sleep in a hotel room alone without being cuddled up with Alex. Of course we Skype, but it isn't the same. I sleep much better with my wife. Am I aware that's pathetic? Yep…but I don't care. I know she feels the same way, which makes us both pathetic.

Another great thing that has happened over the past seven months is that we've repaired our relationship with Olivia. The three of us are friends now. It wasn't an easy road; especially for me. I was very nice and civil to Olivia but for the longest time still held her responsible for what happened with Alex. Holding a grudge is _very _rare for me, but in this case I couldn't help it. And then slowly I started to let it go. We would go out with Olivia and her girlfriend Renee and after a while it felt natural and easy. I no longer saw or felt anything between Alex and Olivia. I think Olivia had been sincere when she said she was letting Alex go and moving on. And Renee is a very nice girl; I'm happy for her. The four of us try to get together at least once a week and we always manage to have a good time.

A week ago we signed the final papers and closed on our house. I couldn't be more excited. I haven't lived in a house since I was a kid, and this one is _beautiful_. I never imagined myself living in such a place. It's in a very nice residential part of Manhattan. The house is two levels and very modern, with a _huge _yard. Alex is excited about landscaping possibilities and I'm excited because the large yard will be perfect for a dog. Our back deck opens up to a large underground pool and a hot tub. The pool area is all marble and a newly added addition to the house. Added since the last owners, to generate more interest in the house. We have a patio with sliding glass doors that will provide me with good grilling space, and an upstairs balcony. A three car garage; big enough for both of our vehicles and my motorcycle. Hardwood floors, crystal chandlers, central air, brand new appliances…the regular American dream.

I never thought I'd be living this life. I thought an apartment in downtown Manhattan was the furthest I'd ever go. Living in a huge house with a pool and a three car garage was never in the realm of possibilities for me

And it almost never happened. When we first looked at this house, I didn't like it. Not because it isn't beautiful; but because I thought it was too much. There are only two of us and we don't plan to have a family so I thought a two level house with four bedrooms on each floor was ridiculous. What would we use all the extra space for? And then Alex started talking about hiring a yard and pool service. Never in my life have I ever had anyone work for me like that. It's not something I'm comfortable with or used to.

So our first real argument as a married couple had been about this house. Alex wanted it; I didn't. I thought it was too expensive and too big and impractical; but Alex saw such potential in it. She talked about making two of the rooms on the second floor into offices for both of us and dedicating another on the second floor to her paintings and artwork and converting another into a game room. I started warming to the idea when she put it like that. Although I think the finished basement would make a better game room. Alex says it's up to me.

"It's just like that sandcastle you built in Costa Rica. Remember Casa Alex? You said the Queen's wife had a game room in the castle. Well, this is our castle, Casey; Casa Cabot, and you'll have your game room," she had said, in an effort to win me over.

So I gave in – after some compromises. I agreed to a yard service since neither of us know _anything _about landscaping and are too busy to mow the large lawn or plow the driveway, and to the pool service because it's just practical. Professionals maintaining our pool is a sure way to keep it up and running properly for a long time. Plus it's only seasonal, so we'll only need to employ the pool service for a few months out of the year. But the stipulations on me agreeing were simple – no maids or cooks. I can't stand the thought of someone doing house work in my own house or cooking for me. I know Alex is used to it…but I'm not. And I'll never get used to it.

I know we both have busy schedules and cleaning and other housework will be a challenge, but we can do it. We can do anything – we're Calex!

I'm so busy thinking about our current place in life that I nearly drive right by Senator Palmer's office. I have to quickly switch my turn signal on and slam on my brakes for my turn, which wins me an angry honk from the car behind me. Oh, deal with it – this is Manhattan. I'm not the only crazy driver. And I'm a girl deeply in love – cut me some slack.

If I had been on my motorcycle I would be paying more attention. I tend to use extreme caution when I ride it; after all, I did promise Alex. But I'm banished from it until the snow melts completely. Winter driving is too dangerous on a motorcycle.

I'm dismayed to see a certain black Grand Am parked next to my usual parking spot. Great; Jenna is working today. I actually groan as I go to open my door and step out.

I dislike Jenna very much. She just started in Senator Palmer's office this past January, having worked for a State Representative for a number of years. She is a few years older than me and her resume and credentials had been impressive and the Senator hired her to work on his constituent outreach staff. She goes between the state and Washington at least three times a week and always somehow manages to make her two days in Manhattan when I'm working. Aren't I a lucky girl?

It's not Jenna is a bad person; quite the opposite. She's outspoken and bubbly and very intelligent, making her exceptional at her job. She deals with constituent issues very professionally and in a timely manner. I have a lot of respect for her professionally.

But I don't enjoy working beside her. I get the strangest vibes from her – like she's interested in me. She'll say something or look at me in such a way that gives me the creeps. And I know she has a boyfriend, but this does nothing to help me shake this strange feeling I get when I'm around her. When I walk through the office, I swear I can feel her eyes on me. When Senator Palmer is back in state and I need to accompany him somewhere, Jenna is always the first to want to tag along. She doesn't go with anyone else. She'll next to me in the van or limo, making the whole trip uncomfortable.

I know everyone works with someone like this and whenever I tell Alex about her, she just laughs at me and says I'm reading too much into it. Jenna has never tried anything and she knows I'm married, so as far as Alex is concerned, it's a harmless crush if anything at all.

Crush or not, I still don't like it.

I try to put a pleasant smile on my face as I enter the office. I've been fighting off a headache since I got up this morning and somehow I know it's going to be worse by day's end since Jenna is here. I say hi to Scott and Tommy, and head for the office I work out of. I like to refer to it as 'my' office, even though it really isn't. Three of us work out of here, to save space and office costs. Rarely at the same time, but it still isn't without problems. My stuff is always getting moved or misplaced and someone uses my laptop without plugging it in so I'm always left with a nearly-drained battery. No one will own up to it; but I know it's one of my office mates.

I sigh as I sit down behind the desk and start going through the stack of piles with my name attached. I have a lot of work – lucky me. A few newspapers want a comment from the Senator regarding gas prices and there are a few unpleasant issues and topics I'm going to have to put a happy spin on.

I'm about to pick up the office phone and call the Post and tell the editor for the millionth and one time Senator Palmer is for lower gas prices, when there's a soft knock at the door and it opens before I get a chance to tell the person to come in.

It's Jenna. She smiles cheerfully at me, her perfectly white teeth practically shining under the fluorescent lights in the office. "How was Washington?"

My headache is getting worse and I am so not in the mood for small talk. It's going to take everything I have to be nice to her right now. I force myself to smile. It's possibly the fakest smile of my entire life. "It was good; you know Washington."

"Unfortunately yes," she says, pulling up a chair and sitting down in front of the desk like we're old college chums about to catch up on our lives. "I'm always glad to back in New York."

I try to polite. "Me too. I can't imagine traveling there as often as you do."

That was the wrong thing to say. I gave her the impression that I'm interested in her life; now I won't get rid of her. She'll sit there yacking my ear off about what it was like working for the Representative and how different the Senate is; the same spiel I've heard over and over again since she started.

"It is a challenge," she tells me. I pop open the lid of my laptop and attempt to look busy so she'll go away. "But I really enjoy it." I just nod, keeping my eyes on my computer. "How do you handle it, coming from no political background at all?"

I peel my eyes away from the screen and look at Jenna, doing my best to keep my expression soft so I don't appear angry. "I'm really sorry, Jenna, but I have a lot of work to do. I was a little late today because I had to stop home before coming to the office. So if you don't mind, I need to get to it."

Jenna doesn't say anything at first, but she does get up and set the chair aside. Her mannerisms tell me she's upset, but she seems to get over it quickly. "Okay; I understand. I have work to do myself. I just wanted to gossip with you. And ask if you're going to the fundraiser for the Democratic Party at Senator Palmer's Washington residence next weekend?"

"Yes, my wife and I plan to attend," I tell her, making sure to emphasize the word 'wife'.

She smiles again. "Good. I'm sure there will be an excellent turn out. I'm going myself."

Great. I'll turn cartwheels as soon as she leaves. Why don't we fly out together so she can sit next to me on the plane?

"And I heard his place in Washington is pretty much a mansion. Have you been there?"

I shake my head, showing even disinterest. Does the girl ever take a hint?

Jenna then finally leaves my office, leaving me alone to my work. As soon as she's gone, I let a curse slip out under my breath. She _would _have to be going. Something I was actually looking forward to has become something I am dreading now.

But I have to attend. Senator Palmer says I need bigger exposure within the Democratic Party and need to start making connections if I'm even _thinking_ of possibly having a career in politics. And the truth is, I _have _been considering it.

Maybe something will come up and Jenna will be unable to attend. Then Alex doesn't have to endure her.

Then a smile creeps across my face as I realize it will be the first time that Alex meets Jenna. Maybe she'll say the wrong thing or look at me the wrong way and really piss Alex off. Alex has a tendency to be jealous. Maybe she'll go off on her.

That thought makes me smile and instantly brightens my mood.

* * *

My bright mood doesn't last long, however. As the day drags on, my headache develops one of my migraines. By four o'clock I'm sitting with my head down on my desk, moaning from the stabbing pain in my head and completely nauseated. I can't lift my head because the lights in the office make it so much worse.

Tonight is going to suck. I'm going to spend the first night in our new house stuck in bed. Once I'm stricken with a full-fledged migraine, it takes hours to go away, even with medication. Our plans are going to have to be canceled. There's no way I can sit at a restaurant. Or participate in the activity I wanted to do afterwards; an activity that included being naked.

Somehow I manage to lift my head long enough to hit Alex's speed dial on my cell. I expect to get her voicemail, but surprisingly she answers. "Hey baby! Are you going to be out by six?"

I groan. "Alex…I have one of my migraines. It's a bad one. I don't think I can do dinner. I think I see a dark room and bed in my future tonight. I'm sorry."

"Oh, baby, it's okay!" Alex is quick to say, her voice full of concern. "I'm so sorry you don't feel well. I know how bad your migraines are. We'll go to bed right away when you get home. I'll come pick you up."

I love Alex so much. She is always so concerned and worried about me, out of love. But I don't want her to pull herself away from tending to the house just to pick me up. I know there's no way I can drive in this condition, but I am capable of taking a cab or catching a ride with someone from the office.

"No Alex; don't do that. I can take a cab or get a ride from someone."

"Nonsense, Casey. I took the day off, remember? I'll come and get you now. Are you ready?"

I do have more work to finish, but it's not anything that has to be done before tomorrow. And besides, I don't think I could do it anyway. The brightness of the computer screen would probably kill me right now and if I had to read anything my head would explode. I wouldn't want Alex to have to clean up the mess from my head exploding.

So I give in. I really do feel miserable and would love nothing more than being with my wife right now. So I say, "Okay; come and get me."

I can actually hear a smile in Alex's voice. "I'm on my way. Just hang in there. I'll bring your pills, even though you say they don't help. I love you."

After I disconnect the call, I remain seated at the desk with my head against the cool mahogany for several minutes. I know it will take Alex at least a half hour to get here if she hurries; which I know she will.

Nearly forty minutes later I hear the sound of footsteps coming down the hall approaching the door, and two voices conversing back and forth. The one voice I'd recognize anywhere – it's my wife. And the second voice sounds a lot like Jenna.

Suddenly the door opens and before I can even lift my head Alex is beside me. I feel her warm arms wrap around me and the scent of her sweet floral perfume. She presses a kiss to the top of my head and says, "I'm here, baby. Let's get you home."

I'm not normally a big baby; I swear. I'm usually very independent and I don't like anyone fussing over me.

But I let Alex help me stand and put her arm around my shoulders. My head feels like it's going to split open. As soon as I stand, the room starts spinning and I feel my stomach do a flip-flop. Alex barely has enough time to grab the garbage pail from beside my desk before I'm emptying my stomach contents into it.

She waits until I've finished and rubs my back gently, putting the garbage pail down. I apologize for what just happened and she says softly, "Don't apologize. It's okay."

I don't feel as sick now but my head still throbs so I hold onto Alex as we make our way out of the office. The lights are literally killing my eyes so I squint to avoid their brightness.

And even though I'm squinting, I can still see Jenna standing right outside the door waiting for us. She looks concerned. "Is everything okay?"

"She just has a migraine. She gets them frequently. She's okay," Alex tells her. "She just needs to rest."

Jenna follows us down the hall and I can feel her eyes on me again. She starts giving Alex instructions on what to do to make me feel better. "Make sure you turn the lights out. And give her warm milk or honey for her stomach. Make sure she sleeps. If she isn't better by tomorrow, I can – "

Alex lets go of me long enough to spin around and glare at Jenna. "I know how to take care of my wife. Thank you for your concern," she says harshly, her tone no-nonsense.

"I'm sorry. I was only trying to help," Jenna says, a hint of hurt in her voice. "I hope she feels better."

Neither of us pays her any attention as we walk out of the building, our minds only on each other and what we can salvage of the night ahead of us.

* * *

**Alex's POV**

I take the cinnamon applesauce out of the fridge and empty a small amount into a bowl, sighing. I hope Casey will be able to eat it. She can't go all evening without eating.

I have to admit this is not what I envisioned for our first night together in our house. We've been gradually moving things over from our apartment for over a week and the last of our furniture excluding our new couch was delivered today. All utilities have been turned on and we managed to get cable and internet hooked up a couple days ago so we'd be all set when we officially moved in.

I had big plans for tonight. I was going to take Casey out to dinner to celebrate and then surprise her with a movie afterwards. There is new superhero movie I know she wants to see and I was willing to subject myself to it to celebrate the occasion. Then we were going to come home and cuddle up in bed and possibly make love. That was how the evening was _supposed _to go.

But instead Casey and I went to bed before seven PM, lying in the pitch black bedroom while Casey fought off another of her migraines. She has improved since I first brought her home from work and she has managed to not get sick since the office, but she's still miserable. I feel so badly for her; I don't like it when my Casey doesn't feel well.

She is very prone to migraines and I made her see a doctor at the beginning of the year because of it. I was afraid that there was something medically wrong with her that was causing the frequent intense migraines she was getting much too often. We had sat in Doctor Sherman's office and listened to him explain all the possibilities to us. The scariest was that she could have a brain tumor. I remember feeling a chill go down my back when he had suggested that. To rule it out, they sent Casey for an MRI the same day she saw the doctor. And then we had a three day wait for the results. Those were the longest, scariest three days of my life. I couldn't stop thinking the worst and wondering what I'd do if Casey in fact did have a tumor. We'd talk about it at night and assure each other that everything was going to be fine.

And luckily it was. The MRI showed no tumor or severe abnormality in her brain that would be causing the migraines. She was given a prescription that she is supposed to take when she feels the onset of a headache and told to keep a log identifying what seemed to trigger the migraines. For two months we tried to pinpoint a cause, but came up with nothing. They seemed to occur suddenly and without warning and from what we could conclude, weren't triggered by anything in particular. We had ruled out the usual triggers. Sunlight and flickering lights didn't seem to trigger them; Casey could play her video games for hours without resulting in a headache. Caffeine didn't seem to do it, and lack of exercise certainly didn't apply to Casey. So we, along with Casey's doctor, concluded the migraines are mostly brought on by stress and Casey was told to take her medication as soon as she feels a headache coming on.

Whether or not it's really stress that triggers them, I don't know. All I know is that they are extremely painful for Casey and sometimes can last for hours. I wish she wouldn't be so stubborn and would take her medication. She claims it doesn't work. Seeing Casey in so much pain and suffering hurts me deeply. I love her so much and every time she gets one of these awful headaches I just want to take it away from her and inflict it upon myself.

And then there's Jenna, that strange woman Casey works with. When she first told me of Jenna's apparent attachment to her, I thought she was exaggerating. In my mind it sounded like nothing more than an overly friendly individual trying to befriend someone; the same way Casey had been with me when she came back to the DA's office and I was annoyed by her. But after meeting her today and seeing her reaction to me and her over-concern for Casey, I'm beginning to wonder if she really is fixated on Casey.

If so, she's flirting with disaster. Casey is a happily married woman…and I have a tendency to get jealous and act accordingly. I might have to bring down the wrath of Alex Cabot on her if she continues to make Casey uncomfortable.

I go back into the bedroom quietly and am shocked when I discover the bedside lamp on and Casey sitting up in bed. She's leaning back against the headboard and smiles hesitantly when she sees me.

"What are you doing up? You're supposed to be resting," I scold her, taking my place on the bed and handing her the small bowl.

"I'm feeling a bit better," she says, looking down at the applesauce disapprovingly. "But not well enough to eat. I wouldn't be able to keep it down. I'm still nauseous."

I'm not going to force her to eat it. She loves cinnamon applesauce and I know it's easy on the stomach, but if she doesn't feel up to eat I won't make a big deal out of it. At least she's sitting up and has some color back in her face.

I settle back against the headboard as well, and Casey immediately adjusts herself so she's lying against me. I start stroking her hair gently. "Want me to turn out the light?

"No; it's okay for now. It doesn't bother me as much as the overhead light. You can turn on the TV if you want; I know it's early and you're not tired."

I finally talk Casey into letting me have a TV in the bedroom and she wants me to utilize it now while she's suffering like this? I can't believe she would even suggest that. There's no way I'm turning on a bright noisy TV when Casey is fighting off one of her migraines. I have more sense than that.

"No TV tonight. You're more important." I continue stroking her hair, feeling love every time I touch her. I love holding her this way. I know it makes her feel better and it fills my heart with pride and joy to know that Casey loves me enough to let me comfort her this way.

She sighs, snuggling deeper into me. "I'm so sorry for ruining our evening. Our first night in our new bedroom in our new house and we're trapped in the bedroom before it's even eight o'clock because of me."

My heart breaks when I hear those words. Casey's voice is dripping with guilt and disappointment. But this is _not _her fault. She didn't cause or choose it.

"You didn't ruin anything, Casey. We'll have more of a celebration tomorrow night. It's okay. You can't help that you don't feel well. I'm not disappointed or mad in the least. The important thing is we're spending tonight together. And you know how much I love lying here holding you. It's my favorite thing ever. I love you so much that I'd be happy lying on the floor with you if we had to."

Casey actually laughs at that. "So besides me being miserable, tonight isn't a complete bust?"

"No," I assure her, beyond happy that she's conversing with me instead of lying in bed moaning the way she was a couple hours ago. "And I even got to meet the great Jenna, at long last!"

That causes Casey to burst out laughing, which she immediately ceases and regrets. "Ouch….laughing hurts right now. Please don't make me laugh."

"Sorry," I apologize, sliding down in the bed so I can lie on my pillow and taking Casey with me. "But I see what you mean about her. She _is _a little creepy. As soon as she found out who I was, it was like I was her best friend."

"I told you," Casey says. "She thinks I'm her BFF and it's very irritating."

"Well I just want you to limit your contact with her. I know you work with her, but…don't do anything to lead her on. Just keep reminding her that you're married and stick to professionalism. You don't have to be rude to her, just let her know that her over-attention is inappropriate."

"I will, Alex," Casey tells me, her voice weak. She moans slightly again, and I feel my heart break once more.

She got active too quickly and that light shouldn't be on. She needs to rest. I quickly reach over and switch the lamp off, bathing us in darkness again. I'm kicking myself for bringing up Jenna; I could have a chosen a much better time to a broach the subject instead of when Casey is in the grips of one of her headaches.

My poor baby. I start stroking her again, holding her close to me. "It's okay, baby. I've got you. I'm not going anywhere. Just sleep."

Casey relaxes into me, quieting immediately. I continue talking softly to her while making circles on her back until I hear her breathing evening out and her body giving into slumber.

This is what marriage is all about. Being able to comfort the one you love with a simple touch and soft words. Having them love you so deeply and completely that they will forget the pain they are in the second they hear your voice and receive your touch. And getting the same thing from them.

These past seven months have been the happiest of my life. I didn't think it was a possible to love another person with every fiber of your being and every part of your soul until Casey and I looked into each other's anxious eyes and vowed our love forever. Since that day at the Botanical Garden, I have become a different woman. My whole life revolves around Casey and our relationship. I've altered my work schedule to allow us to have most evenings together. The emotion that fills me when I get in my car after a long stressful day knowing I'm about to go home to the love of my life is indescribable. Never before I have put another person to the front of the line, completely above everything else.

I know it sounds clichéd to say, but my life is perfect. I am deeply in love with my wife, I have a career that I love, and we just moved into our new home together. Our future is shining so bright that we both need sunglasses.

And I can't imagine of a better way to end our first night in our new home than holding my beautiful wife and dreaming of what's to come for us.

**Did you like it? The main point of this chapter was to establish where Alex and Casey are in their relationship and in life. I hope I accomplished that! I will update soon. In the mean time, please review and let me know what you think. Things start happening quickly in the story; it won't be all roses for long...**


	2. Chapter 2

**THank you or your response to the first chapter! Hope you all enjoy this one. I am doing some more establishing in this chapter, and the next one will start some heavy stuff. So enjoy!**

The next morning I'm awakened by a sweet voice. "Wifey….wakey, wakey."

I open my eyes and find myself staring into my adorable wife's beautiful green eyes. She's lying on my chest staring right at me, a big smile on her face. Once she realizes I'm awake, she gives me a kiss. "Good morning, gorgeous."

I deepen our kiss and when we break apart I rest my hands on the back of Casey's head, holding her so she has no choice but to stare at me again. She seems herself this morning; no trace of the painful migraine from the evening before lingering on.

"Thank you for taking care of me last night," Casey says, reaching out and stroking my cheek. "Sorry I ruined our night."

"You're welcome, baby. And you didn't ruin anything. I love holding you in bed." I remove one hand from behind her head so I can touch her shoulder. "Are you feeling better today?" She nods, settling back down on me and sighing. I immediately start to stroke her soft hair. "Good. We can have our celebration tonight."

I turn my head and look at our alarm clock. It's ten minutes before its set to go off. I groan; I wish we didn't have to get up. I could lie in this bed all day with Casey and be perfectly content and happy.

I'm so glad her headache is gone. It hurts me to see her in that kind of pain. Sometimes her migraines still linger on the next day. The worst one she had lasted for almost two whole days. She got it right after New Year's and had to be in bed in the dark for two days. She was constantly throwing up and miserable. It was awful. Thank God this episode was tamer than others.

Casey and I lie there together for as long as we possibly can, savoring the feel of each other's bodies and feeling each other's love. But all too soon the alarm clock screams to life, letting us know that it's time to leave each other's arms and start the day.

Casey and I groan in unison and it's me who reaches over and shuts off the obnoxious clock. Casey pulls away from me and sits on the edge of the bed, yawning and scratching her messy hair. I nearly start laughing when I realize her Calex shirt is on backwards. We usually sleep naked but since Casey had one of her migraines last night, we both dressed for bed in our Calex t-shirts. I hadn't realized hers was on backwards, but now that I see it, it's adorable.

We both finally get out bed lazily. I'm thankful that Casey had a good night's sleep after her migraine last night. Granted it wasn't as bad as usual, but it was bad enough. I'm positive she slept through the night. If she had been awake or would have awakened suddenly, I would have known.

I shower quickly while Casey makes her way into the kitchen to make breakfast. Since I have a longer commute to my office from our house, I'm going to have leave earlier in the morning than Casey. Which means showering together is out. I'll have just enough time to eat breakfast with Casey every morning before I have to leave.

I don't spend as much time as usual on my hair this morning – I just remembered when I stepped out of the shower that I have to drive Casey to work this morning. I picked her up last night and her car is there. And I don't want her to have to take a taxi. So I do a quick blow-dry and brush job, then dress in record time; opting to wear one of my beige suits with a pink blouse today. Then I put on the finishing touch – the charm bracelet Casey gave me on our honeymoon. My finger graces my newly acquired house charm and I smile in pride. I'm certainly proud to have this milestone in my life symbolized on my bracelet.

By the time I'm dressed and head back out to the kitchen I expect to see breakfast ready and waiting for me. Instead I see a frustrated Casey searching the cabinets hurriedly.

"Something wrong?" I ask, coming over to the island and sitting on one of the stools. Casey turns around and glares at me. Not exactly the warm look you want to see first thing in the morning. "Casey?"

"What the heck did you do to this kitchen?" she asks, closing the cabinet door. "I can't find anything…where the heck are the pans?"

I nod to the cabinet door under the sink. Casey moves to it and opens it. She pulls out our good Teflon pan – and bursts into a fit of laughter.

I cock my head and look at her. "What's funny?"

Casey puts the pan on the counter and shakes her head, still laughing. "Alex, Alex…you're just as inept about kitchen organization as you are about cooking, I'm afraid." She points to a tier of multiple hooks above her head. "Those are for the pots and pans." She lifts the pan and shows me the small hole in the handle and then hangs it on one of the hooks. "Just like that."

I stifle a laugh. Whoops. "Oh. Sorry. I just wanted to get everything put away."

She shakes her head again and comes around the island to me, wrapping her arms around me and kissing the top of my head. "What am I going to do with you? You're just too cute."

"Keep me?" I ask her hopefully, giving her my best pathetic look as she backs away from me and sits on the stool next to me. "I'm sorry I screwed up the kitchen."

She reaches out and smoothes my hair back, smiling at me sweetly. "It's okay, baby. I'll keep you anyway, I guess. But when I get home from work I am re-doing this kitchen."

I shrug and throw my hands up in defeat. "As you wish. The kitchen is yours."

She's still smoothing my hair back and staring at me with love. God, I love looking at her. She is the most perfect human being on this earth.

Finally she sighs and gets up off the stool. "Well I'm afraid I don't have to time prepare breakfast now…I guess it's drive-thru this morning. I know you have to get going. But don't skip breakfast, okay? Get at least something."

"Well you'll be with me." She gives me a confused look. "Your car is at the office, remember?"

"Oh yeah," she says thoughtfully, smiling. "Then we'll do McDonald's. I'll go hurry and get ready. I already fed Harrison; I just need to shower and get dressed."

I envy Casey's ability to be able to take quick showers and make herself presentable in less than half the time it takes me to accomplish the same thing. She hardly spends any time on her makeup or hair at all and still manages to look beautiful. It's unfair.

I wander into the kitchen and turn on the early morning news while I wait for Casey to get ready. I don't usually watch TV in the mornings, but as I might as well do something productive while I'm waiting. I catch the forecast; rain tonight. Good; maybe that will get rid of the rest of that ugly snow we have outside.

I wait about fifteen minutes and then wander down the hallway towards the bathroom. The faucet has already been shut off but the bathroom door is still closed. I can hear the hairdryer. I smile as an impulse comes over me.

I quietly open the bathroom door, immediately spotting Casey bent over with the hairdryer, drying the underside of her long red hair. She has a towel wrapped around herself and the radio near the sink is playing at a very low volume. She's unaware of me stalking into the bathroom, so I use this to my advantage. I don't plan to scare her but I do want the element of surprise.

But it doesn't work. I'm two steps away from her when Casey stands back up and grins at me in the mirror. "Hello, wifey. Come to leer at me getting out of the shower?"

I love it when she calls me 'wifey'. It's the sweetest, cutest thing ever and uniquely Casey.

Instead of answering, I grab her and spin her around so she's facing me. Without a word I loosen the towel, causing it to fall to her feet. Her freshly showered body is mine for the taking…too bad we're pressed for time this morning.

I place my hands on each of her hips and pull her in for a deep, long kiss. Her breath tastes like toothpaste and I can smell the subtle strawberry scent of her shampoo. When I end the kiss, I rest my hand over the tattoo on her hip, smiling widely. "Beautiful," I tell her.

She returns my smile. "You too, baby."

I can't resist hugging her again. I know my affection may sometimes be too much, but I can't help it. I was never an affection person before but Casey has brought out this side of me. Now I can't get enough of it.

"Beautiful…" I repeat, squeezing Casey tightly. She has her arms wrapped around me. "Mine."

She lays her head on my shoulder, sighing contently. "Yours," she concedes. And then she squeezes me in return. "And mine."

I couldn't have thought of a better way to sum it up than that.

* * *

**Casey's POV**

Oh my God, this day is never-ending. It's only three o' clock and I already want to go home.

It's been hectic all day. First of all, the Senator's speech writer called in this morning with a family emergency and wasn't able to come in to prepare Senator Palmer's speech he is supposed to deliver on the Senate floor tomorrow regarding a current piece of legislation they are working on. It's not one I am familiar with, so I had to pull up the legislation and try and depicter the political mumbo-jumbo just to get the gist of it. I thought I had an okay concept of it, so I quickly hashed out a speech. I'm pretty good with words. Senator Palmer is in Washington today so I called him on Skype and emailed him the speech. He was pleased with it and thanked me for my effort.

Then I spent over an hour on the phone this morning with the Chief of Staff from our state's other Senator, getting information on a bill he wants Senator Palmer to co-sponsor, and asking the list of questions I got in my email from Senator Palmer.

After that I had a staff meeting and then fifteen minutes to myself in my office…before Jenna arrived.

I'm at the front of the office using the fax machine when she comes in so naturally I'm one of the first people she sees. She greets me in her usual enthusiastic manner, coming right up to stand beside me. When I turn and look at her, I realize she's not alone; there's a dark-haired man standing beside her.

"Hi Casey! How are you feeling? Better, I hope? You certainly look better!"

_I was fine until you walked in. Now my entire day is ruined. Thanks a lot. _That's what I want to say. But what I actually say is, "I am feeling better; thank you," with a small professional smile. I keep what Alex told me in the back of my mind; basically treat her professionally but don't give her any incentive to be overly-friendly. As if Jenna needs any extra incentive to be annoying.

I turn back to my document and act as if Jenna isn't there, but she doesn't go away. She stands there looking over my shoulder at what I'm doing and says, "Sorry if I seemed pushy to your wife last night…I was just concerned. Please give her my apologizes."

"It's fine; don't worry about it," I tell Jenna quickly. My fax finishes going through and as soon as the transmission record prints out, I grab it and turn towards the hallway in a desperate attempt to escape Jenna.

But it doesn't work. She actually steps right in front of me and says, "I want you to meet someone." She gestures to the man who came in with her, who is now standing awkwardly in front of the front desk. "This is my boyfriend, Kyle. He works for the Democratic Party." Kyle approaches me and holds out his hand. "This is the district attorney's wife," Jenna adds with a smile.

Kyle smiles and reaches for my hand. "Casey Cabot. Nice to meet you."

Kyle doesn't say much; just shyly says it's nice to meet me and then asks Jenna if she's ready to go.

Aw, they're leaving? That breaks my heart. I think I will retreat to my office and cry now.

"We're heading out to Washington; just wanted to stop by and say hello and make introductions before we left." Her tone is so cheerful. She sounds like a contestant from '_The Price Is Right'_.

I barely say acknowledge she's leaving as she says goodbye to everyone else in the office and makes her way out to the parking lot. I watch her go, grateful that I won't be putting up with her today.

After taking care of a few more minor details, I'm finally able to take my lunch. I go to the taco place down the road and sit in my jeep to eat my tacos. I'm hallway done when my cell phone vibrates, indicating an incoming text message. It's from Alex. My face immediately lights up.

_Hey baby. Just wanted to say I love you. I hope no headache today? _

I quickly compose a reply. _No headache. On lunch – tacos. I love you too…miss you. Can't wait for tonight! Celebration still on?_

_Oh yes. A romantic dinner and then…other activities. I'll be home a little late but don't spoil your dinner! Love you tons._

I smile again. Alex is always looking out for me. I text her back and tell her I'll be ready, and then I quickly polish off the rest of my tacos. I'm too lazy to get out of my car and throw the wrappers in the garbage can outside of the building, so I crumble everything up inside the paper to-go bag and toss it on the floor of the passenger seat. I'll throw it away at the office.

Almost on cue, as soon as I start the car my cell phone rings. I'm not a fan of talking on it while driving, so I turn the car off and answer. It's Senator Palmer.

"Senator, hi. What can I do for you? Is that about the speech? Did you decide you didn't like it?"

"_Casey, I think you have worked for me long enough to call me Ryan…Senator is too formal. And no; the speech is great_."

I feel myself relax a little when I realize I'm not about to be chewed out. But why is he calling me? Our communication when he is in Washington is mostly Skype and texts…this is a little unusual.

"_I'm calling because there is something I want to tell you."_

I can't tell from his tone whether this is good or bad, so I hesitantly say, "Okay…"

"_I know I've already told you how much I appreciate your hard work and willingness to always go above and beyond what's asked of you. But I don't think I've ever told you that you're the best person I have on my staff. I was one-hundred and ten percent impressed that you were able to read through that bill and understand what you read well enough to compose a speech. There are individuals who hold four-year degrees in public policy who wouldn't have been able to come up with what you did. I just wanted to tell you that."_

I feel my heart feel with pride at Ryan's words. I've never been praised in that way regarding any job I've held.

"Thank you." I'm grinning from ear-to-ear. I'm actually proud of myself. "But you didn't have to call me just to tell me that."

"_Yes I did. I felt it couldn't wait. I'm so honored to have you on my staff, Casey. And I'm glad that you will attending the fundraiser next weekend with Alex. All the right people will be there and I think it's the perfect time for you to start making an impression on them. I was wondering if you might be willing to come to Washington on Friday instead of Saturday?"_

"Why? The fundraiser isn't until Saturday night…"

"_There's an important committee hearing I'd like you to attend. I think your insight would be valuable. Consider it and let me know if you're able to make it."_

That's something I would love to do, but I have to discuss it with Alex first. We were planning on flying to Washington together on Saturday morning. I'm almost positive that Alex won't be able to get Friday off and I'm not sure I want to spend an extra night that week without her. But I will discuss it with her. I don't make any decisions without consulting Alex; marriage means compromise and making decisions together.

"I'll discuss it with Alex and let you know. And thank you for your kind words. It means a lot. I'm going to head back to the office now and get some work done."

"_Take the rest of the day off," _Ryan instructs me. "_You've earned it. Go surprise that beautiful wife of yours at work."_

I thank Ryan again for his words and his belief in me. I disconnect the call and I can't stop grinning. I can't believe I've taken so well to this job. I never thought I'd find my niche anywhere; I guess I was wrong. I can't remember the last time I felt self-pride about a job I was doing. Not even as an ADA did I feel this way; I always had this shadow hanging over me, this sense that I wasn't worthy and didn't belong because of that one mistake I made. But not here; not with this job. I have no prior experience and no educational background in politics or policy, but I still love what I do and I somehow manage to excel at it.

I have to call Alex and tell her. She's going to be bursting with pride when she hears what Ryan said. I'm in such a hurry to hit her speed dial that I accidently bring up the photo album and a random photo pops up. It's a picture of me and Alex from Christmas morning. I'm wearing a beautiful sweater that Alex's mother had given me and a stupid Santa hat, and Alex is right behind me with her arms locked around my chest. We're both smiling from ear-ear.

I smile at the memory. This past Christmas was our first Christmas as the Cabot's, and we had gone to our cabin on Montauk Lake to celebrate. We had a beautiful tree, decorations, gifts, each other…it was perfect. There was a very bad winter storm on Christmas Eve and we got snowed in for two days.

On Christmas morning we had gone crazy taking photos with our phones. We took photos of each other, photos of us together, photos of us outside in our winter gear, photos of the tree and the snow…everything. By the day's end we had over a thousand photos between the two of us. We had connected our phones to Alex's laptop and looked through every photo we had, laughing the entire time. It had been a blast.

I remember thinking it was going to be the worst Christmas ever because it was the first Christmas without my mother and the first one I wasn't spending with my family. But it turned out to be the best one ever because I spent it with the love of my life…and as Casey Cabot.

I'm actually getting teared up looking at the photo. I had forgotten I saved this one to my phone's memory. It had been my favorite. Me and Alex's love for each other is evident in the photo, and it captured the season perfectly.

I drop the phone into the passenger seat and start the car. I think I'll take Ryan's suggestion and go see my beautiful wife at work.

* * *

I raise my hand and knock on the closed door of Alex's office. When she tells me to come in, I catch the confusion in her voice. It's not usual for someone to knock on her door; usually her secretary buzzes her ahead of time and seeks permission for someone to come back to her office. But I had told her secretary I wanted this to be a surprise, so here I am, knocking on her door with a bouquet of white roses hidden behind my back.

I open the door and saunter into the office with a bit of a cocky strut, giving Alex a lopsided smile and making sure to keep the roses behind my back. I close her door behind me and approach the desk slowly.

Alex looks up at me from behind her cute black-rimmed glasses and raises an eyebrow questioningly. "Casey…you're a sight for sore eyes. Today has been extremely busy and you're just the eye candy I need. How come you're off work early?"

She stands and comes around the desk to give me a kiss. I lean into her awkwardly, not wanting to drop the flowers. She pulls me away and gives me a puzzled look. "What are you hiding?"

I give her my best Casey smile and present the flowers to her. She gasps in delight and takes them from me, letting a smile overtake her face and sitting them down on her desk. She gives me another kiss, this one deeper. "Oh Casey, they are beautiful!" she gushes. "Thank you."

Just to go and show you how much Alex Cabot has changed – almost two years ago she wouldn't be caught dead kissing me in her office, especially with a job as important as District Attorney. Now she doesn't care. I mean more to her than her job.

She motions for me to sit in the chair in front of her desk, so I do. I look down at the open file on her desk. It's a police report and a statement. "Wow. It does look like you're busy."

Alex laughs lightly. "Yeah. Sometimes it's not so fun being District Attorney. Having to pour over all these documents and statements and determining how to charge the suspects…and then having ADAs disagree and buck up against me. I love my job and the challenges it provides, but sometimes I miss being an ADA and having someone else make the decisions." She thinks about what she just said. "Oh my God, did I say that aloud?"

I have to laugh at her. "Yes, you did. But it's okay. I understand. Are you feeling any sympathy for McCoy now that you're in his place? Remember how much trouble I used to give him?" Alex gives me an 'I can't safely answer that' look and I nearly burst out laughing. "Okay, point taken. Maybe I was too hard on him."

"No, you weren't. You stepped out of a line a few times yes, but McCoy was a jerk. I have an understanding for the pressure he was under and can _sort of_ see how our relationship was hard for him to deal with…but he had no excuse to treat you the way he did, Casey. You were a great ADA." She reaches across the desk and covers my hand with hers. "And now you're great Senate staffer. I'm so proud of my little Casey."

I feel myself blushing. Alex fussing over me always makes me blush like a lovesick teenager. Which usually makes her fuss even more.

"Aww…now my Casey is blushing…super adorable."

When my face goes back to its normal color, I'm able to say, "Speaking of my job…I have something exciting to share about it."

Alex cocks her head and looks at me, completely interested. "Oh? And what might that be?"

I fill Alex in on all the details about the speechwriter being absent and me writing the speech, about Ryan's kind words and his invitation to attend his committee hearing. I'm taking a mile a minute and I'm surprised Alex is able to keep up. But by the time I've finished my story, she is smiling and brimming with pride for me so I know she took it all in.

"Is there a limit to your greatness?" Alex asks, leaning back in her chair and looking me over. "Casey Cabot, Senate staffer extraordinaire, can now add speech writer to her list of talents. And she now has the title of Best Staffer ever."

That makes me involuntarily blush again. "I'm sorry for bursting in and blabbing about this…I know it's unlike me. I'm sorry. I just couldn't wait to tell you. I – I'm so proud of myself for this, Alex. Do you know how long it's been since I could say that?"

I'm becoming emotional. This is all too much. Too many good things are happening in my life right now. The marriage, the house, the job…it's all a lot to take in. It's more happiness than I think I deserve and more than I ever thought was possible for one person.

Despite all my efforts not to, I start to cry. Not a full-on bawl fest, but gentle sobs that send warm tears running down my cheeks. The good kind; happy tears.

"Aw, Casey…" Alex gets up again and comes around to the front of the desk, wrapping her arms around me and holding me. "You deserve every bit of recognition you are getting, baby. You are a wonderful smart girl that is going to do so many great things in life. And I get to be there by your side as you do them." She kisses my cheek and strokes my hair, and then crouches down so she's eye-level with me. Her blue eyes are so full of warmth and love and she continues to stroke my hair and gazes into my eyes. "I am so proud of you, Casey. So, so proud. My heart swells with love and pride every time I look at you."

Those words go right into my heart and stay there. I know she's sincere. There's not a hint of jealously or resentment anywhere in her eyes. She is honestly proud of me and the work I do, and I know she always will be.

I let another tear slide down my cheek and Alex is quick to brush it away with her soft thumb. She's still crouched down beside me, holding my hand and now stroking my cheek. Love is radiating off her.

"I just don't know what I did to deserve this kind of happiness, Alex," I say softly, closing my eyes. "Sometimes I think it has to be dream; that nothing like this could be true or real."

"Casey," Alex says again, ceasing her stroking of my cheek and opting to take my other hand in hers. She squeezes my hands tightly and forces me to look into her eyes again. "What did you do to deserve this happiness? You're _you_. You're Casey. You changed my life and made into a completely different person. You give me love unlike any I've known before. You bring joy into every day. I treasure you, Casey, and everything about you. Sometimes the prettiest eyes have cried the most tears and the kindest hearts have felt the most pain. That's definitely true, because you have the prettiest eyes and the kindest heart."

Just when I started getting my emotions under control, I lose it again. How can I _not _start the waterworks back up with the passage of Alex's last line?

We embrace each other again, holding on tightly and saying "I love you" until Alex's office line buzzes, startling us both. We both jump and pull away from each other, laughing easily as Alex picks up the phone. I watch her face contort into a look of displeasure as she says, "Okay. I'll be right there," and then hangs the phone up.

I grab a tissue off Alex's desk to and dab my watery eyes, when the photo frame I gave Alex on our honeymoon catches my eye. It's displayed proudly on Alex's desk, preserving one of our wedding photos. It puts a smile on my face when I see it and I turn my attention back to Alex. "Duty calls?"

She sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. "I'm afraid so; yes. One of my homicide ADAs needs to see me. So I'm sorry, honey, but I've got to run."

I get up from the chair and can't resist giving my wife another hug. "I understand. I know how busy you are. I just wanted to stop by; I'll see you at home. I love you."

Alex gives me a squeeze and peck on the cheek. "I love you too, baby. I'm so glad you came by, and thank you for the beautiful flowers."

Alex gathers her briefcase and slips her jacket on, and I walk out of her office with her. I have to hurry to keep up with her fast, purposeful stride. We part ways when we reach the elevator.

I reach out and seek Alex's hand, holding it momentarily. "I'm going to go home and re-organize that kitchen that you destroyed. I'll see you later."

Alex gives me a wink and smile before stepping onto the elevator. "Yes you will. And remember I'm proud of you and I love you."

I nod, and just before the elevator doors slide closed, Alex blows me a kiss.

* * *

"Casey…" Alex says in a sing-song voice, standing over the bed and leaning down towards me. She smoothes my hair back and says softly, "Time to get up."

I groan and venture a peek at the alarm clock…and groan again. It's only nine AM on a Saturday. Sleeping in is very valuable to me. If Alex valued her life at all, she wouldn't be trying to get me out of bed.

I roll onto my stomach and bury my face in my pillow. "I want to sleep…go get a drive-thru breakfast."

I feel the mattress dip as Alex climbs onto the bed and lies right beside me. "Casey…" she rasps again, right in my ear. "Come on, baby. I don't want food; I want you up. I know we stayed up late last night reading this week's letter, but…I just want you up. Please?"

I groan in response and pull the comforter over my heart, which results in Alex ripping it off me. I turn so my back is to Alex in further protest of being awakened at this ungodly hour on a weekend, but that doesn't stop her. Alex presses her lips to my neck and within seconds she's kissing her way up to my head. Goosebumps immediately spring to life all over my body. My neck being kissed is a weakness of mine; which my wife knows all too well.

I give in and roll over so I'm facing Alex, causing her to cease her kissing expedition. And I gasp as I realize Alex is already fully clothed and even appears to have showered. I pull myself into a sitting position, blinking my eyes in confusion. "When did you get up?"

"A couple hours ago. I wanted to get ready."

I yawn and scratch my head, not yet fully coherent. "Ready for what?"

She gives me a devilish grin and swats my knee. "You'll see; now get up and get ready. I'll make breakfast."

Even in my sleepy stupor I find humor in what Alex has just said. "You're making breakfast? Don't catch the kitchen on fire."

She tells me to shut up and I make myself leave the pleasure and comfort of our wonderful bed and slink into our bathroom to attempt to make myself look presentable. I stand in front of the mirror, clutching the sides of the sink and staring at myself with another yawn.

I look real attractive. My hair is messy and I have the sleepy eyes going on. It's a wonder I didn't send Alex screaming from the bedroom. I wouldn't have blamed her.

It takes me about a half hour to get ready. I feel pretty sluggish this morning and even the nice refreshing shower doesn't seem to wake me up. We have to stop staying up so late…I'm getting too old for it. Of course it wouldn't have mattered if my wife had let me sleep in. Just where is she planning on taking me, anyway?

I throw on a pair of my old faded blue jeans and a lazy purple hoodie and make my way to the kitchen. I'm pleased to see it's intact and there are no flames or messes that I can see. And Alex is standing in front of the fridge, her back to me, so I know she hasn't perished in a cooking mishap.

"I'm up and ready for whatever you're going to do to me," I grumble, falling into a chair at the table. Alex slams the fridge shut and comes over to the table, holding a can of Mountain Dew and smiling. She places the soda on the table and I grab it immediately and pop it open. I definitely need the caffeine this morning.

"It's almost ready; I didn't start it until a few minutes ago because I didn't want it to get cold."

I'm about to inquire as to what 'it' is when I hear the toaster pop up. I have to stifle a laugh; Alex made us toast. What a safe way to go. And it doesn't smell like she burned it this time. She's making progress!

The last time Alex attempted to make us toast she burned it so badly that it could have been used as a weapon. I had picked up my slice and burst into a fit of laughter, telling her I was positive I had prosecuted a case with that as the murder weapon. My poor inept Alex – I swear she could burn cereal.

Alex slaps the toast onto two plates and quickly spreads the jelly on – grape for me and strawberry for her. Then she brings the plates to the table, sitting mine down in front of me and smiling proudly. "What's the verdict? How does it look?"

I pick up the toast slice, examining it carefully. "Hmm…where it's not burnt to a weapon consistency…the back looks nicely colored…good jelly distribution…." I raise my eyes to her. "I'm impressed! You get an A plus, and not just for effort this time."

We chat as we eat our breakfast and I'm starting to wake up. I think it's the combination of caffeine, food and my wife. Alex is very peppy and cheerful this morning, whereas our roles are usually reserved and I'm the cheerful one.

After breakfast Alex announces we're leaving and that our destination much be kept confidential until we arrive.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me _where _we're going," I announce stubbornly, placing my hands on my hips and giving Alex my serious expression.

She isn't buying it. She smiles and kisses my neck, whispering, "Do it because I love you? Please?" I can feel myself weakening as she kisses me again, making her way to my mouth and giving me a long, passionate kiss. "Hm...toothpaste taste is gone. Now you just taste like my Casey." She pulls away from me and cups my chin, forcing me to look at her. "Meet me in the car in five minutes?"

All my resolve is gone. I'm a quivering pool of Jell-O now; that's what Alex has reduced me to. I lock my arms around her neck and tell her, "Fine. Let me visit the bathroom once more, and then I'll be right out."

* * *

**Alex's POV**

I've been sitting in the car waiting for Casey for five minutes. Whatever she is doing, she's taking her sweet time; probably intentionally so.

I'm so proud of Casey that I could burst. She is exceling at her job and her confidence has really soared these past few months. I've noticed a huge change in her since we got married and I think a large part of that is her job and how well she's treated by the Senator. I'm so happy to see her doing something she loves with people who respect her.

I stopped at the pet store a few days ago to pick up some food for Harrison, when a flyer for an Adopt-A-Thon caught my attention. There are going to be cats and dogs from shelters around the area today from nine AM until noon. I thought it would be a perfect opportunity for Casey to pick out a dog. Even though I'm not crazy about the idea, I still want her to get one. She deserves it for how well she's doing.

My trunk is filled with dog supplies. The same day I saw the flyer I bought a twenty pound bag of dog food, a collar and lease, food and water dish, a tie-out and some toys. They've been sitting in my trunk for two days just waiting to be used. So I'm fully prepared…all Casey has to do is pick out her dog.

And the surprise doesn't end there. Casey expressed an interest in making our basement into a game room. I thought a room on the second floor would be more practical, but Casey seemed to like the basement more. It's a very nice basement; carpeted and large with a full bathroom. So I've decided to turn it into a game room for her. For the past few days I have been working in secret with Olivia and Renee, trying to get everything set up and ready. I bought a new big flat screen and a mini refrigerator that Casey can use for that horrible Mountain Dew. I picked out a couch that is set to be delivered on Monday while Casey is at work. I'm taking my lunch so I'm there when it gets delivered and I plan on keeping the basement locked and the key with me so Casey doesn't wander down there. And on Renee's advice, I bought an Xbox 360 with something called Kinect to go along with it. Supposedly it's better than the Wii. Renee and Olivia are coming over sometime next week to hook up the game consoles to the TV and help me get everything looking nice. We're also going to pick out some posters and décor for the walls. I'm beyond excited about this – Casey is going to _love _it.

And she should be thankful I am taking my car. Her jeep is much more suited to transporting a dog, but I don't like driving it. So I'll endure having to vacuum my backseat out…just because I love Casey.

When Casey finally comes out of the house, she's on her cell phone. She opens the passenger side door and climbs in, wrapping up her phone conversation. She leaves the door open for a moment and lets the cold air in and I'm about to scold her when she pulls it closed and slides her phone into her purse.

"Sorry. That was dad. He just wanted to check in."

"No problem. Are you ready?" Casey nods. "There's one rule – you have to keep your eyes closed until we get there."

"Are you nuts?" she asks me. "I am not sitting in this car with my eyes closed!"

"Humor me, Casey. It's about a ten minute trip. Come on."

"I'll fall asleep," she threatens.

"Casey…do it."

She sighs in defeat and makes a face at me, and then finally buckles her seatbelt and leans back against the headrest, closing her eyes. I smile, satisfied with myself. She's so adorable.

A few short minutes later we've pulled out of the driveway and are headed to the pet store. I can't stop smiling. The look on Casey's face is going to be worth every dog hair on our furniture and every landmine in our yard.

"What if there's a car coming that you don't see, but I would have seen it if my eyes weren't closed, and you hit it and we both die?" Casey asks morbidly, turning her head in my direction.

She can't see me, but I'm sure she knows I'm glaring at her. She must be able to feel it. "Just stop. I promise you are going to like this surprise. It will be worth it. You'll see."

Less than ten minutes later we're parked in the parking lot of the pet store. There are several cars here already, and a huge banner hanging in front of the entrance to the store reads "Adopt-A-Thon – One Day Only! Find Your Furry Friend Today!" complete with balloons on each side.

"I can feel the car has stopped – can I open my eyes now?" Casey asks me.

I reach out and push a stay strand of her hair out of her face and kiss her forehead. "Yes. Let me see those beautiful green eyes."

She pops them open and stares right into my eyes, not even trying to look around. "Making me close my eyes….you're so weird, Alex."

"Yes; but you love me anyway. And you'll love me even more when you see where we are."

"It's impossible to love you more, but let me take a look anyway." Casey finally turns and looks out the window – and gasps in shock. "Alex!"

I smile and get out of the car, going around to her side and opening the door for her. I hold out my hand and help her out of the car. "I saw the flyer and thought it would be the perfect time. You had said you wanted to adopt a dog. Maybe there will be one here that you will like."

Casey hugs me excitedly. "Oh, Alex! But you didn't have to. I thought you wanted to wait a while before we got one? Until we were settled more?"

I take Casey in my arms and hug her. "You deserve to have a dog, Casey. I'm so proud of you for the excellent work you're doing…and for being such an incredible wife." I release her and take her hand in mine, playing with her fingers. "Now come on – let's go find your dog."

As soon as we enter the store we're bombarded with dogs parking and voices chattering excitedly. There are several cages on the right wall of the store which look to contain cats but I we don't even give them a second glance. Our eyes are open for the dogs.

Casey pulls on my hand excitedly, pointing to an area towards the back of the store. "I think they're there. Come on."

All the dogs are in what looks to be a room they use for dog training. There are at least thirty dogs, all leashed and excitedly greeting everyone who approaches them. Two smaller dogs on the right are yapping and jumping up on everyone who stops and I find myself thankful that Casey doesn't want a small dog; I've never liked them. Some of them are basically rats masquerading as dogs.

A dog on the right catches Casey's eye immediately and she goes straight over to him, me following close behind her. He's a beautifully colored dog with thick fur ears that stick straight up. He's sitting calmly in front of the chair of the person who is holding his leash, and wags his furry tail when Casey crouches down in front of him to pet him. "Hello there…you're really pretty and calm."

The woman in the chair smiles at Casey's enthusiasm. "His name is Blaze. He's a two year old collie mix."

Casey is stroking his soft fur and talking softly to him, a huge smile on her face. "He's so calm and beautiful…what is a dog like this doing at a shelter?"

"We've had problems adopting him out. He's partially deaf and walks with a slight limp. He was brought to the shelter about six months ago after someone found him in the woods. He had been shot in the right hind leg and unfortunately the limp is a permanent result of it. It does not take away from his enthusiasm or energy, however; he loves to go for walks and play. He was treated by a vet and sent to a shelter after being released. He was terribly afraid of people. It was believed he had a history of abuse. He would urinate and cower if someone raised their voice to him. It took several months of loving care for him to trust humans again. And now he's a wonderful, loyal dog. He would make a good companion to anyone."

"Oh that's so sad…" Casey says, stroking his fur some more. I see tears in her eyes. "Is the deafness a result of the shooting as well?"

"No; and he's only partially deaf. He can hear loud noises and voices if you speak loudly enough."

I get into the spirit and crouch down so I can pet him as well. He's so soft and he licks my hand as I start to pet him, earning a "Aww, he likes you, Alex!" from Casey.

"What's he like? What's his temperament?" I ask.

"I've been fostering him. He's housebroken and neutered, and generally a very good dog. He's very calm and has no behavior problems. He also knows the basic commands – sit, stay, lay down, shake. Just as I said, speak loudly to him. He's very intelligent and trainable. Walks very well on a leash; doesn't pull. Loves other dogs. Taking him to a dog park regularly is a must."

That dog sits and behaves amazingly while Casey and I pet him and converse with his foster parent. It's clear by the way that Casey looks at him that she's already in love. And I have to agree he seems like a good dog. I'm not fond of the long fur; shedding season will be a nightmare. But I'll do it for Casey if she wants him.

The woman hands Casey the leash. "Walk him around. Get him to obey you."

There's not much room to move around because of the other dogs and people, but Casey walks him from one end of the room to the other. The dog stays right by her side the whole time and when she comes back to us, she tells him to sit in a loud clear voice. He obeys immediately and wags his tail happily again when Casey pets his head.

Watching my wife with this dog is so heartwarming. She crouches in front of him again and tells him to shake, and when he does she so praises him happily. The dog is looking right into her eyes, his attention on Casey the entire time, shutting out the noise and confusion around him. Casey has fallen in love with a beautiful dog with a sad story that no one wanted.

Casey looks at me with a mixture of excitement and love. I can tell her mind is made up already and we don't even need to look at any more dogs. She pets him again. "What do you think, Alex?"

I reach out and stroke him once more, smiling. "I think it looks and sounds like you found your guy." I turn my attention to the dog's foster. "Can we take him today? Do we have to submit to a background check or anything?"

"You can take him right away; we just need you so sign some papers and pay the adoption fee. It's one-hundred seventy dollars, and we'll give you a month's supply of flea drops and he's been micro chipped. Do you want him?"

I don't hesitate to say, "Yes, we do. Please get us the paperwork."

Casey turns to him with a smile and says, "Did you hear that? You're mine now. A Cabot." She pats his neck. "You lucky boy."

I get tears in my eyes seeing how happy the dog is making Casey. That smile hasn't left her face since she met him. She reaches back and grabs my hand, locking her eyes with mine. "Thank you, Alex. I love him."

I squeeze her hand. "You're welcome, baby. And my trunk is full of dog supplies. I bought them the day I saw the flyer for today's event. But if there's anything else you want to get for him, go ahead."

The woman returns a few minutes later with the paperwork for us. We fill them out and pay the adoption fee, and then we're on our way. My heart is bursting with happiness and pride as we walk through the store, Casey's attention on her new friend the entire time.

Watching her, I make a last-minute decision. There was something I needed to talk to her about today…but now I feel it can wait. I think it will upset her a bit and I don't want anything to take away from this happy day.

So that gives me another twenty-four hours to figure out how to tell her that I can't attend the fundraiser in Washington next Saturday.

**So what did you think? Alex can't attend the fundraiser...how do you think Casey will react to that? And did you like the dog? I know not much happened in this chapter, but I am still trying to establish Alex and Casey's lives together, and Casey's performance on her job. It's pretty important for this story. Please leave me a review and let me know what you think of this chapter! **

**The next chapter promises to be intense. Something happens. So brace yourself. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry it took me so long to update this story. I wanted to make sure it was just right. Thanks to those reading/reviewing. Hope you enjoy this one!**

"You can't go to the fundraiser?" Casey asks, a hint of shock and disappointment apparent in her voice. "Why?"

I sigh and zip my jacket up more, popping up the collar to avoid the chill of the wind. It's Sunday, which just happens to be the coldest day of the week, and we're out taking Blaze for a walk.

Casey is holding onto his leash without any gloves on. I have no idea how she isn't freezing. I have gloves, a stocking cap, and a thick jacket and I'm still chilled to the bone.

Casey is wearing her blue wool coat, sans a hat or gloves. She looks adorable in that coat. Her long red hair contrasts against the blue just right, and it fits her tightly in all the right places.

Blaze doesn't seem affected by the cold at all. He's strolling alongside Casey with his slight limp, his tail wagging happily. The sight is very heartwarming; the dog has taken amazingly to Casey. We've had him just over twenty-four hours and they are already best friends. So much so that I allowed him to sleep on our bed with us last night; after making sure Casey knew it was one night only and just because it was his first night with us.

"Why can't you come to the fundraiser, Alex?" Casey asks again, this time with hurt in her voice.

I have to look away from her. I knew this was a bad time to tell her. But she brought up the fundraiser and the committee hearing she's going to attend the day before and started talking about how excited she was about it. I couldn't possibly let her ramble on without breaking the news that she was going to have to go solo.

It absolutely _kills _me that I can't go. But I don't have a choice. I got a look at this week's current cases and it's one of the busiest weeks in a long time. We have several cases awaiting charges to be filed and some with multiple suspects. Every day I'm going to be pouring over police reports, statements and evidence and determining what I want done in each case, and the meeting with my ADAs to direct them as to what charges I want filed in each case. It doesn't sound like a lot…but it is. Its hours and hours of work, every day, not to mention making sure the office runs smoothly and my ADAs stay in line and issuing statements to the press. I'm looking at a week where I'm going to have to work through the weekend; I know that without a doubt. It's rare of late, but unavoidable in this situation.

"There's just a lot on my agenda this week. Busier than normal. It couldn't have happened on a worse week, I know, and I'm sorry…but it looks like I will be working through the weekend. I will try my hardest and see what I can get done by Friday, but I'm not – "

Casey holds her hand up, offering me a small smile. "Alex, it's okay. I get it. I know you have a lot of responsibility and that you can't just put off your job. I understand. Don't overwork yourself this week. Don't worry about it; I'm sure there will be other fundraisers."

She says it's okay, but the disappointment is evident in her voice and on her face, and it breaks my heart. I know how much she wanted me to attend with her. She's going to be introduced to some very important people and basically shown off by Senator Palmer, and she wanted me by her side. That's not too much to ask. I _should _be there. I'm Casey's wife and I love her…and I'm letting her down.

I watch as she bends down and pets Blaze, talking softly to him as he stops and wags his tail to her touch and voice. She's trying to act nonchalant, but I can see my revelation has hurt her.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I feel awful."

She stands back up and looks at me again, offering me another gentle smile. "It's okay; really."

"But I can tell you're upset…"

"I am upset," Casey admits. "But not with you. It's not your fault that you have a lot of work to do. I'm upset that you can't attend, but not upset with you…" she trails off and thinks about what she has just said. "Does that make any sense at all?"

I smile. She's so darn cute when she's confused or trying unsuccessfully to get a point across. She gets this look of determination on her face that makes me melt and then she just gives up and acts cute when she realizes she's not making any sense at all. Like right now.

I laugh and pull her close to me, giving her a one-armed hug. "Yes, it makes sense. It makes Casey sense." She smiles at that. "I get what you were trying to say. You're not mad at me?"

She sighs and takes my hand as we continue walking. "No, I'm not mad. I wish you could come; I'm not going to lie. I was so looking forward to it. But I'm not mad at you, Alex. Like I said, you can't help it. It's perfectly all right. I'll endure it on my own and Sunday morning I'll be back with stories about it."

Here's Casey being amazing again. She's hurt and disappointed but still doesn't have a bad word to say to me. She's not angry or yelling or trying to make me feel guilty in the least. But that doesn't stop me from feeling guilty anyway.

Casey quickly changes the subject, letting go of my hand and snaking the arm that isn't holding Blaze's leash around the small of my back. "The snow is almost gone," she announces happily. "That means I can get the motorcycle back out soon."

I cringe at those words. The dreaded motorcycle. I have felt much better these past few months with that thing not being used and the knowledge that Casey isn't zooming all over the city on a two-wheeled death machine. I worry about her when she rides that bike. I know I shouldn't…but I do.

But I bite my tongue and say, "Yes it does. Bet you'll be glad."

We walk for about ten more minutes and silence befalls us. I'm lost in my own thoughts about having to miss the fundraiser with Casey, and I think Casey is thinking the same thing. I can tell my absence is going to bother her more than she's letting on, and my heart can't take that.

I know I have to make this up to her somehow; and I will.

* * *

"You think he's really going to sleep in that?" Casey asks me, watching Blaze check out the nice cushy dog bed I picked up for him after our walk.

"Sure he will. If I were a dog, I'd love it," I tell her.

I'm sitting against the headboard with Casey lying on my lap, our bedside lamp and the TV in the room providing the only source of light.

It's been an exciting day. Blaze is still getting used to us and the house, and I love watching him and Casey interact. The dog already loves her. He must be a pretty good judge of character.

We haven't mentioned the fundraiser since our walk. I'm still stricken with guilt about not be able to go. It seems so unfair. I'm letting Casey down.

We watch as Blaze finally lies down in the dog bed. He turns so he's facing us and lets out a huge contented sigh. His eyes are on us, as if to say thank you for the wonderful bed.

"See? He laid down," I tell Casey, working my fingers through her long red hair. She rolls onto her back so she's looking right up at me and I feel myself melt. After all this time – married for seven months, dated for a year before the marriage – and my heart still skips a beat and I get butterflies in my stomach when she looks at me with those warm green eyes.

"I love you," I tell her, out of pure habit. The words come so naturally and easily.

She smiles sweetly, her eyes never leaving mine. "I love you too, wifey."

She can't be too upset; not if she called me 'wifey'. I graze her cheek with the back of my hand and talk softly to her. "You are the cutest thing in this entire world. I'll never tire of looking at you. Do you enjoy being Casey Cabot?"

Casey smiles, bringing her hand up to touch my cheek in the same way I touched hers. "I love it. Almost as much as I love _you. _I guess you're a keeper…at least until someone better comes along."

I laugh at that and Casey adjusts her position so she's sitting right next to me and resting her head on my shoulder. We put our arms around each other. I love being close to her like this. It's the best feeling in the world.

"Do you want to watch a little TV before bed?" Casey asks, nodding to the TV across the room, which is on but neither of us are actively watching it. I couldn't even tell you what's on it right now.

I pick up the remote and switch the TV off, and then I remove my arm from around Casey's shoulder and pull her down with me. I rest my head on my pillow and Casey snuggles into my side, using my stomach as her own pillow. I immediately start stroking her hair, as I do every time she decides to lay on me.

"I had something else in mind," I admit, a hint of mystery in my voice.

"Ohh…I think I like that," Casey replies, just as mysteriously.

"Good. But we have to talk first. Is that okay?"

Casey seems to sense what I want to talk about. She gets off my stomach and positions herself next to me, rolling onto her side to face me and sharing my pillow. She seeks out my hand and interlocks our fingers together.

"What's on your mind?" she asks, even though I know she knows the answer to her own question. I watch as a grin breaks out on her face. "Let me guess – you want a divorce already?"

"Damn, you guessed it," I say in a very disappointed tone, completely playing along and anticipating a good banter session. "But yeah….you and that mutt have to go."

She doesn't ask scared in the least. One of the many great things about Casey is that you can joke with her in this way she doesn't get offended or take it seriously. She plays right along and usually adds some nice twists.

"Hmm, okay. I get the house, right?"

I feign shock and use my free hand to swat at her. "Just for that, you get nothing."

She suddenly sits up to look down at me so we're in a role reversal from when we first came to bed. She slowly leans down and plants a soft kiss to my lips. When she's broken it, she pulls away just enough to look into my eyes again. "But I'm your little mutant, Alex."

Oh my God…this woman. She's all kinds of adorable and sweet and I don't think my heart can take it anymore. All I can do is look at her as my eyes fill up with tears and beckon her to lay with me again. "Come on, baby – lay back down. I'm craving some you."

She obliges happily, returning to her previous position by my side facing me. We're still holding hands and I stroke the top of hers as she asks, "What do you want to talk about?"

Those green eyes are going to be the death of me. They are window to her kind soul and I swear they contain all the secrets and wonder of the universe. How can _they _not? They're one of the Great Wonders of the world.

I force myself to keep my emotions in check. "I want to talk about the fundraiser. Me not going. I'm so sorry, Casey."

"It's okay, Alex. I already told you I understand. Don't sweat it."

"I know, but I _am _sweating it. I know how important it is to you and how much you wanted me to be there. I feel like the worst wife in the world because I'm going to be stuck here working instead of with you where I belong."

Casey smiles and reaches out to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. "You are far from the worst wife in the world, baby. You're the best and I love you. And I'll admit I was upset when you first told me…but I do understand. I'm not angry. I'm still going to go and I'll tell you all about it afterwards."

"But I want to be there, Casey."

"I know. But you will next time. You know you can't shrug off your job. It's important. More important than a fundraiser."

I slide over to Casey and rest my head on her chest, sighing. She closes her arms around me and kisses my head, whispering that she loves me into my ear.

"But it's not more important than you," I tell her.

My sentiment receives me another kiss on the head. "Aw, thanks, baby. That means more to me than you know."

"It's true. I feel awful, Casey. I feel like I'm letting you down."

Casey puts her finger under my chin, raising my head so I can look at her. She has that stern look on her face that I know means business. "You are not letting me down, honey. I understand why you can't attend. It's probably going to be horrible anyway. I'll stand there awkwardly while Ryan introduces me around like I'm a shiny new toy and then I'll get to hear a gazillion politicians tell boring boastful stories. I probably won't last more than an hour. I'll fake a migraine and go back to the hotel room."

Out of everything Casey just said, one thing in particular sticks out in my mind. "I can't believe you call him Ryan."

"Why? He told me to."

"I know, but…he's a United States Senator. A year and a half ago I would have laughed at anyone who said you'd be on a first-name basis with a U.S. Senator; and look at you now. Look how far you've come. It's incredible, Casey. I am so proud of you. I just wish I could be there holding your hand when you're introduced around. It's going to be a proud moment…one I should be there for…" I let a tear slide down my cheek. This is _so _hard. "I know you said it's okay, but I can't say I'm sorry enough…"

"That's because I'm adorable and you're obsessed with me," Casey says, squeezing me tighter.

I know she's joking and saying it only to lighten the mood, but it _is _true. "It's true, baby I adore you in every way possible and it breaks my heart to have to do this to you."

Casey is silent for a moment. Then without warning she turns out the beside lamp, bringing on total darkness. "I think this is the perfect night to just cuddle. Forget everything and just enjoy each other. I know you had other plans…but I'm really looking forward to just lying here with you if that's okay."

That's more than okay – that's perfect. "Of course, baby. I'd love that."

Casey rests her head against mine in its spot on her chest, and I can feel her warm breath on the back of my neck. Her arms are still around me, holding me lovingly and securely.

I lay awake for several seconds, and as I do, a thought enters my mind. I can help Olivia and Renee finish up the game room while Casey is in DC next weekend. We can have it done when she returns and I can surprise her with it. She'll _love _that! So far she has no suspicions of what we're doing so I know we still have the element of surprise.

My mood is lifting as I think about how happy the game room is going to make my Casey, I fall asleep I in her arms feeling nothing but pure love.

* * *

**Casey's POV**

"It's not so bad, is it Casey?" Ryan asks after the Secretary of Defense – whom I've just been introduced to – walks away. "You just smile and act professional; that's all there is to it."

"Yeah, well acting professional and me sometimes clash," I say with a laugh.

But I must admit; tonight hasn't been _that _bad. The fundraiser is in full-swing and I've already been here for an hour and a half. There are literally hundreds of guests – politicians, law enforcement officials, even celebrities – swarming Ryan's huge house. All the money raised tonight goes to the national Democratic Party. Tickets are eight-hundred a head; pretty steep. I'm lucky I got in for free.

I've shaken more hands than I count and smiled so much my face actually hurts. I've met members of the President's cabinet, members of the Supreme Court, celebrities, members of Congress that I never encountered before, wealthy donors of the party. You name them, I probably met them tonight.

And as it turns out, I'm not a complete stranger. Ryan has talked me up to the chair of the national party and I spent twenty minutes conversing with him about same-sex marriage and the war overseas. I had thought my marriage would be somewhat of an issue and be looked down upon, even amongst liberal Democrats; but it's turned out to be the opposite. Everyone is curious about my wife and how we make our marriage work and face any criticism thrown at us about our lifestyle.

Alex helped me pick out my dress for tonight. It's sparkly blue, with shoes and earrings to match. It was a little bittersweet picking it out; we had a great time shopping together but at the same time Alex had been sad and disappointed that she couldn't see me premiere it. We chose something sexy, but not _too _sexy of course. Not too short or tight and not a lot of cleavage revealed. I think Alex had been worried about that, even though she hadn't vocalized it.

I left New York early yesterday morning for Washington so I could attend Ryan's committee hearing with him. The hearing had been over three hours, and I sat in the entire time, taking notes for myself and viewing the proposed legislation at hand from both sides. After its conclusion, we had gone back to Ryan's office and discussed the legislation in length. He was very impressed that I was able to pick up and absorb so much in such a short period of time. I had left his office with a huge smile on my face and phoned Alex to let her know that all was well and I got the thumbs-up on my hard work.

I miss Alex. I dearly and pathetically miss my wife.

I wish she were here with me right now. I'd love to be standing hand in hand with her and admiring how beautiful she is. I'm feeling a bit self-conscious about myself, and if Alex were here she'd clear that right up.

Last night was so lonely alone in my hotel room. Alex worked until after eleven PM and we Skyped until well after one. She assured me that she was caring for Blaze and that Olivia had stopped by to take him for a walk after she got out of work. I was happy to know he is being taken care of.

And my poor Alex is so overworked. She's put in so many hours this past week – going in before eight AM every morning and not coming home until ten or eleven. She hasn't slept in past five AM in five days. I'm sure she's at the office now slaving away while I'm here at the Palmer mansion shaking the hands of every 'someone' in attendance.

But after an hour and a half I'm running out of steam. My voice is hoarse from overuse and my feet hurt from being on them for so long.

Ryan seems to sense my impending exhaustion. He laughs a little and asks me, "A bit tired?"

"Just a little," I answer truthfully.

"Why don't you mingle and get something to eat? There's tons of food and drinks…you haven't had anything. Go sit down and take a break."

That sounds perfect to me. I could use a time-out from all the talking and hot air. I can't believe this is such a big part of politics. People paying insane amounts of money to wine and dine in a fancy mansion with other people of their status and standing. It's like the lawyer scene in New York; but on a much bigger scale.

I wander into the living room. I'd caught a glimpse of some people from the office earlier, including Jenna, but I haven't seen them since. Jenna arrived solo without her boyfriend and I had been afraid she would attach herself to me the entire time, but she barely even gave me a wave before she was off and lost in the crowd. Not that I'm complaining, mind you.

I mingle in the living room for about a half hour until I decided to check out the balcony. The sliding glass door is closed since it's a chilly night, but that doesn't stop me from sliding it open and stepping out onto the vast balcony. I approach the railing and lean onto it, admiring the view.

And it's a quite a view, that's for sure. The Capitol dome is visible from this vantage point, and the city is lit up with so many neon lights that for a moment I forget I'm not in New York. I take a deep breath, sucking cold air into my lungs and coughing a bit. The air seems lighter and cleaner here.

Suddenly I hear the door slide open behind me. I turn around, expecting to see a stranger coming out to admire the view as well.

But what I see instead makes me want to jump off the balcony – it's Jenna.

She's wearing a very revealing black dress with high-heels so impractical I'm surprised she can even walk in them. The balcony light is bright enough for me to get a good look at her. She's wearing a lot of makeup – and I mean _a lot_. Much more than normal. Dark lipstick and dark eyeliner, a far contrast from the usual light colors she normally wears. She looks like a completely different person. If I didn't know she was professional woman, I'd mistake her for a call girl.

"Hello, Casey. Sorry I haven't had a chance to say hello until now. Enjoying yourself?" She regards me with a smile, coming over to stand right next to me and practically looking over my shoulder at the view.

Just how far down is the ground, anyway?

"Yes; it's not too bad," I answer, turning away from her and focusing on the Capitol in the distance. I don't want to make conversation with her because she'll never leave me alone if I do.

"I see the Senator has been using you for show and tell all evening," she says, staring straight ahead at the same sight I'm looking at.

I catch the unmistakable hint of jealously in her voice. She's not using her usual cheerful, overly-friendly tone. I turn my head and look at her but look away again just as quickly. I don't even want to dignify that with an answer.

"Your wife must be proud of you. Walking into all this with no background in politics. It's really something."

Okay, can I throw _her _off the balcony? Would that be acceptable?

"She is," I answer curtly and directly, careful not to look at her. I don't care if she thinks I'm rude or a bitch; I have no desire to be her friend.

Jenna is standing so close to me now that I can actually hear her breathing. I'm becoming very uncomfortable and the air is growing colder, causing me to shiver. I have no jacket on and neither does Jenna, so I figure this will be a good excuse to go back inside.

I turn around to address Jenna, and find myself face-to-face with her. She had been standing directly behind me and I nearly ran right into her when I turned around. Her proximity is a little unsettling.

"I think we should go back inside," I announce. She's right in my way and she makes no attempt to move. "Could you please get out of the way? I'm cold and I want to go back inside."

She's staring right at me, in a way that chills me to the bone. Her eyes are almost crazy and she's fidgeting around nervously. But as soon as she hears my words, she snaps herself out of it. "Sure," she answers quickly. "But there's something I've always wanted to do first."

I'm about to just push past her and go inside when she grabs both of my arms and kisses me. Not a peck on the cheek or a quick graze of my lips – a full-on kiss.

I'm disgusted and horrified, and I pull away from Jenna quickly, my face twisted into an angry expression. "What the hell are you doing?!" I demand shrilly.

She's looking at me and blinking her eyes, as if she has no idea what she did wrong. "I just thought…"

"You thought _what?_!" I practically scream. I'm so upset that I'm on the verge of panic right now. "I'm a married woman, Jenna! I haven't kissed or been kissed by anyone since I've been with Alex! What could possibly make you think I'd want you to kiss me?"

She looks down at the floor, visibly flustered. I've upset and embarrassed her, but I don't care. How does she think _I _feel? And what until I tell Alex – Alex is going to flip out on her. She's going to demand that Ryan fire her and she'll confront her and bring down the wrath of Alex Cabot.

"I – I'm sorry," Jenna sputters, finally raising her eyes to me. "I just...I've wanted to do that for a long time. I think you're so cute and smart. And I've picked up on signals from you. I thought maybe you'd want me to kiss you."

Is this girl insane? Picked up on_ signals_ from me? The only signals I've ever sent out to her were that I thought she was annoying and overbearing. And doesn't she have a boyfriend? Why has she had her eye on me? I always knew her fascination with me wasn't healthy…but I never expected her to actually kiss me. That's way over the line.

"I'm not interested in you in the least, Jenna. I'm extremely happy with my wife and, unlike most of the people here tonight, I have no desire for a thing on the side. I never sent you any signals. In case you hadn't noticed, I've always done my best to ignore you. I don't even like you, Jenna. I thought your attention was over the top, but this…you crossed a major line."

I can't read her expression now. It's either angry or sad or a mixture of both. She tries to apologize again, but I hold up my hand and side-step around her to the glass door. I point my finger at her and say, "Don't come near me again. Just stay the hell away from me." Then I open the glass door and go inside, and to my relief, Jenna doesn't follow.

I run my hand through my hair and swallow a wave of panic that has overtaken me. I fall into an empty chair in the living room and attempt to catch my breath and stay calm. I know I've done nothing wrong, but I still feel upset and guilty.

I need to call Alex and tell her what happened. I pull out my cell phone and make my way out of the living room, where it's too loud to be able to hear clearly. My hands are shaking as I dial Alex's speed dial number. I walk past the wine table and pause just long enough for the man in the tuxedo tending the drinks to pour me a glass. I haven't had anything to drink all night, but I'm going to need it now.

I find myself in the kitchen; the only quiet room of the house. By now the phone has rang three times and Alex hasn't answered. She's probably still at the office; and I can't call her there with this. She needs to focus. As her voicemail greeting starts, I curse silently and drop the phone into my purse again, falling into one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

What a nightmare. An utter and complete nightmare.

I've been sitting at the table for less than a minute when Jenna approaches me. As soon as I see her, I jump up from the table. "I told you to leave me alone…"

"I want to apologize, Casey. Please. I'm so sorry I made you feel uncomfortable – "

"_Uncomfortable?_" I echo back. "You didn't make me feel uncomfortable, you made me feel humiliated! What if someone saw you kiss me? My wife is the district attorney of Manhattan and I work for a U.S. Senator – do you know what that could do to us? I wouldn't want to be kissed by anyone, Jenna, but the fact that it was you makes it even worse. I think you need to get some help. If you think I harbor any feelings for you, you're deeply disturbed."

My harsh words sting Jenna, but I make no apologies. She needs to hear this. She needs a figurative slap in the face for her insensitive stupid actions.

"I know you don't. I'm trying to apologize. If you'd let me explain – "

I hold up my hand again and start walking out of the kitchen to the hallway. I need to use the bathroom and I know there's one down this hallway. Jenna follows me, apologizing profusely, and I finally turn around to face her again when I reach the bathroom door.

I sit my wine glass down on a flat area of a small statue outside the bathroom door and I let Jenna have it again. "I heard your apology. Now I want you to get away from me and leave me alone. When I come out of this bathroom, I want you gone. I don't want to see you for the rest of the night. If you so much as look at me, I'm going to make a scene. Do you understand?"

She nods sadly and I don't even give her a chance to respond before I step into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me.

The bathroom is insanely large and beautiful but I don't have it in me to admire it right now. I quickly do my business and then sit on the edge of the bathtub, trying to collect my thoughts. God, I wish I could reach Alex. I need to hear her voice. It would calm me down and make me feel better, which is exactly what I need right now.

I'll tell her what happened over Skype tonight. I'm flying home first thing in the morning, so we can figure out what to do then. I know Alex is going to want me to tell Ryan, but I'm not doing anything until I've spoken to my wife.

I have to get out of here. I'll say a quick goodbye to Ryan and then head back to my hotel.

I finally emerge from the bathroom, relieved when I see the hallway empty. My stomach unclenches when I realize that Jenna isn't waiting to kiss me again.

I grab my glass of wine and head to where I last saw Ryan near the living room. But he's not there now. He's probably mingling and working the room. He's a seasoned politician and very good at working a crowd; it's what he's comfortable with.

I sit down and decide to wait for a few minutes. I finish my glass of wine and briefly flirt with the idea of getting something to eat. I haven't eaten since this morning and I am hungry, but I'm not sure food would be a good idea right now.

About fifteen minutes later I start to feel strange. I become very dizzy and the room seems to be spinning. I blink a few times to clear my head – I guess I shouldn't have drank that glass of wine on an empty stomach.

The dizziness gets worse and I stand slowly, thinking the change in altitude will help. But it actually makes it worse. I nearly topple right over. A man standing a few feet from me asks if I'm all right, and all I can do is nod at him as I try to make my way out of the living room.

I'm heading down the hallway towards what I think is the study when I feel as if I can't stand any longer. I fall against the wall and slide down it until I'm sitting with my back against it. My vision has become blurry and I desperately rub my eyes, but it does nothing to help.

Someone asks if I need help. They are a few feet from me, but their voice sounds far away, as if they're speaking to me from inside a tunnel. I can make out the outline of a man standing beside me, but I can't focus on him. He seems to be moving around. I try to make myself tell him that I do need help, but the words come out slurred so badly that I can't understand them myself.

I feel as though I'm in an extreme drunken stupor. I know it's impossible – I've only had one glass of wine – but I don't know any other way to describe it. My head starts to pound and I feel sick. I hold my head and lean forward, trying to stop the room from spinning and the voices from echoing around me.

I'm terrified. I have no idea what's happening to me and I'm not able to tell anyone. My breathing is becoming rapid now, and I find myself sucking in shallow breathes. My heart feels like it's going to pound right out of my chest.

I have no idea how long I've been sitting there, but suddenly someone is crouched in front of me. I hear a gentle voice, and I slowly raise my head to see who it is. My vision is still blurred but I can make out Ryan in front of me. He holds his hand out in front of my face and asks me count his fingers, which I'm unable to do. I'm aware of other people standing around watching me, but I'm past the point of caring right now. I just want to know what's wrong with me.

Suddenly a new symptom emerges. I'm gripped with exhaustion. It's so bad I can barely keep my eyes open.

"She's been drinking," a female voice says. "She had some wine on the balcony and then I saw her with two other glasses."

I don't know who's speaking, but I desperately try to tell me them that they're wrong, that I haven't had more than one glass of wine. But I can't get the words out. I'm too tired and it's too hard.

"She's definitely drunk," Ryan says, and he stands up. He sighs disapproving and I make out the words, "Jenna, take her upstairs. There's a spare bedroom on the right. There's a bed in there. Just put her there and let her sleep it off."

Someone takes me by the arm and helps me stand. My mind is working overtime, trying to put together what's happening. Jenna…he said Jenna's name…

"Casey, it's Jenna. I'm taking you upstairs."

I try to object but I'm too tired and weak. Jenna puts her arm around me and supports almost all my weight as she leads me up the stairs. I stumble and fall at the top of them, but she quickly pulls me back to my feet. Before we make it into the bedroom, I stumble twice more. I can't seem to stay on my feet.

And now I'm lying on my back on a bed. I'm with it enough to be aware of that. Sleep is calling me but I'm fighting it as hard as I can. I want to know what's going on.

I hear a noise to my left but I can't turn my head to look in that direction. It's like I'm paralyzed. But I get the sense that someone is there. And then someone is leaning over me on the bed. I can't see them clearly as normal, but it looks like Jenna. She is completely naked and suddenly and without warning starts to unzip my dress.

I'm quickly losing the battle to sleep. My eyes are closing involuntarily, but I still fight. Jenna is taking my dress off and I'm trying to fight her off the best I can. I try to scream, but the only thing that comes out of my mouth clearly enough to be understood is, "No – please."

Jenna holds her finger to her lips and says, "Don't worry, Casey; it will be fun."

And then I lose the fight. My eyes close and I surrender to sleep, my entire body going limp.

**Uh-oh...that's no good :( The issue I am addressing in this story - where a woman is the attacker and the victim is also a woman - is not addressed often enough in fanfiction. What did you think of this chapter? How is Casey going to deal with this? Things will be pretty heavy in the next one. Please leave me a review and let me know what you think!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow, thanks for the response thus far! Glad you are enjoying it and sorry for the cliffhanger. Thanks to those reading/reviewing/ Enjoy this chapter :)  
**

**Alex's POV**

It's after midnight by the time I get home. It has been a horribly long day. I went to work at ten AM and this is the first time I've been out of the office all day.

Olivia's car is still in the driveway so I know she and Renee are still down in the basement. They texted me this evening to tell me they were at my house getting the flat screen TV and video game consoles set up. I had asked them to wait up for me.

I toss my keys on the table and head down to the basement, taking the stairs two at a time. I announce my arrival when I'm halfway down. "I'm home!"

When I reach the bottom of the stairs, I freeze exactly where I am in shock. The basement looks amazing. The couch is exactly where I asked Olivia and Renee to move it to, the flat screen is mounted on the wall and the entertainment center housing the game consoles and speakers is put together with everything arranged neatly on it. The area rug I bought for the basement is in a good position in front of the couch, and the mini fridge is against the wall to the right of the entertainment center.

Olivia and Renee are seated on the couch, both with XBox controllers in their hands. They both smile and stand when they see me.

I approach them slowly, still in shock. Blaze, who had been lying in front of the couch, runs up to me to greet me, his tail wagging happily. I bend down and give him a pet.

"Is everything to your liking?" Olivia asks, watching me in amusement as I look around the basement. They even put the game posters up on the walls!

"It's perfect," I tell Olivia with a smile. "Casey is going to love this!"

"Does she have any suspicions?" Renee asks me.

"No. Since the couch arrived, I've kept the basement door locked. I told Casey I lost the key to the basement and had to get another one from the realtor. She didn't think anything of it. She hasn't even tried to come down here." My smile is stretching ear to ear. "But she sure will now!"

"Yeah, you'll probably never see her," Olivia remarks with a smile. "She'll be down here all the time with the dog. Unless she gets you to play too?"

I wander over to the couch and pick up one of the XBox controllers. It's wireless and very light. "I play the Wii once in a while. But this XBox looks kind of cool too. Did you get that Kinect thing hooked up too?"

Renee and Olivia glance at each other, laughing. Olivia goes up to the entertainment center and picks up a black sensor type thing. "Yeah. This is it. The 'Kinect thing'. It's a camera and sensor for the motion games. If you like the Wii, you'll like this even more. It's pretty cool."

The smile has yet to leave my face. I'm exhausted and stressed and I miss my wife terribly, but yet I'm still smiling. I'm anticipating the look on Casey's face when she sees what we've done.

I sit down on the couch with a sigh, and Renee and Olivia sit as well. This is the first opportunity I've had to rest all day. I fish my phone out of my pocket and look for a text from Casey, and frown when I don't find one. She hasn't texted or called me in a couple hours.

"Have you talked to Casey? How was the fundraiser?" Olivia asks.

I quickly set out composing a text message to my wife, only glancing briefly at Olivia. "She texted me a while ago when she left the hotel. And I saw that she called a couple hours ago but didn't leave a message. I'm sure she's enjoying herself. The fundraiser is probably still underway or she went back to the hotel room and went to bed because she was tired of waiting up for me. She's supposed to text me when she gets back to the hotel so we can Skype."

"This late?" Renee asks in shock.

"This late is nothing for us. And I don't care how late it is; I can't sleep without seeing or talking to my Casey."

I'm aware of how corny and sickly sweet that sounds, but I can't help it; it's true. Olivia and Renee look at each other again and then break out in a chorus of "Awww!"

I look away, mildly embarrassed. "I know. We're pathetic."

"Not at all," Renee is quick to answer. Suddenly she leans forward, placing a kiss on Olivia's lips and smiling. "I've got to visit the bathroom. Play nice while I'm gone."

She starts for the stairs when I stop her with, "There's a bathroom down here. It's really nice. I just furnished it this week for Casey. New rugs and a shower curtain…the works. Tell me what you think."

As soon as Renee disappears into the bathroom, Olivia turns and looks at me, a serious expression on her face. "This place is really cool, Alex. Casey is going to love this. It's so thoughtful."

I smile at her kind words. "Thank you; I hope so."

I'm so glad that Casey and I were able to repair our friendship with Olivia. After what had happened I thought it would be impossible. But Renee has had a huge effect on Olivia, and I can tell that she is in love with her. Renee is a very nice girl and treats Olivia very well. I'm glad she found happiness; just as she's glad I did too.

And it's good to have Olivia to talk to. Of course Casey and I talk every day and tell each other everything, but Olivia provides a nice non-spousal ear to me. I've borrowed that ear several times this week and probably drove her nuts with my worrying about not being able to attend the fundraiser.

"I just hope she doesn't see it as me trying to make up for not being able to go with her tonight. I so regret not going, Olivia. It was really important to Casey…I should have been there no matter what."

"I think Casey understands, Alex," Olivia assures me. "You know Casey." A smile crosses her face. "You'll just have to give her some extra loving when she gets home."

I know Olivia is trying to make me feel better, but it's not working. The nagging feeling of guilt has been in the pit of my stomach all day and hasn't moved. I sigh and lean forward on the couch, putting my face in my hands and shaking my head. "I know she understands…but I still feel so bad." I look back up at Olivia and see compassion in her eyes. "Casey has been through so much in her life. Charlie, getting censured, me cheating on her with you…" Olivia looks away guiltily when I say that, but I continue. "Then her mother passing away and getting appendicitis…not to mention being mugged and having her engagement ring stolen. We got it back, but still. She's faced a lot. And now we're married and I'm supposed to face all life's challenges with her. Tonight was a big deal for her."

"Yes, Casey has been through a lot," Olivia agrees. "But she has you now. You two love each other. And it was _one _fundraiser, Alex. Don't beat yourself up over it. Casey will Skype you tonight and probably tell you it was a snooze fest and the two of you will laugh about it."

We both start to laugh as Renee comes back to the couch. She's smiling and flops down next to Olivia, immediately lying across her lap and looking at me. I smile; she reminds me a lot of Casey. Casey is very affectionate like that. "The bathroom looks wonderful, Alex," Renee tells me. "I especially love the monkey shower curtain."

Olivia laughs. "You got her a monkey shower curtain for the bathroom down here?"

I laugh as well. "Yes, I did. It's cute and it matches the colors of the bathroom. Plus Casey likes animals. If she doesn't like it, she can return it."

Speaking of animals, and as if on cue, Blaze gets up from his spot next to the couch and comes over to me, placing his head on my knee and nudging my hand. I pet him obligingly. I know he misses Casey, probably as much as I do. "This guy is wonderful; I'm so glad Casey picked him. He's a great dog. No accidents in the house, he's quiet and well-behaved." I give Blaze a smile. "I'm pleased."

Olivia is petting Blaze's back. "Yes, he is pretty good. We took him for another walk when we first got here. Much better than a puppy, huh?"

"Oh my yes…we had agreed no puppies long before we even got the house. We didn't want the chewing and messes on the floor every day. So Blaze being two is just about perfect."

Renee looks at her watch and announces to Olivia that they'd better get going. I watch with a smile as they kiss each other, and then get up off the couch. It's so nice to see Olivia with someone.

I stand up as well and give them both a hug. "Thank you so much for moving the couch and getting all the games hooked up. I'm sure Casey is going to love this. Oh, and is the fridge cold yet? I bought a twelve pack of Mountain Dew I want to load it up with so it's ready for Casey tomorrow."

"Yes, it should be set," Renee tells me as they reach the staircase. Then she turns around and frowns at me. "She's coming home tomorrow? Doesn't she have to work in Washington every Monday? Why doesn't she just stay over? She's going to have fly right back…"

"She's going to leave early on Monday morning. The flight is only about an hour and a half." I give her a smirk. "We don't want to be away from each other for an extra night."

Renee rolls her eyes and says with a smile, "Newlyweds!"

I know; it's pathetic. But I don't care.

Renee goes up the stairs and Olivia turns back around to say one more thing to me before she leaves. "Alex, don't worry about tonight. Really. I promise you that Casey is not mad. And once she sees this basement she's going to be so excited she'll forget all about it. I know that's not why you did it, but it will still help. And as far as what Casey has been through – it's all in the past. She knows you love her. And you two have a great life. Wonderful jobs, the strongest love in the world…and look at this house. It's amazing. You guys have a balcony and a pool and three-car garage. You guys made a wonderful life together. Focus on that; not the past."

"Thanks, Liv." I give Olivia one more hearty hug before she heads up the stairs as well. I look once more around the basement and then follow her.

Olivia is right – Casey and I have made a great life for ourselves. Our lives are perfect. And I don't see that changing any time soon.

* * *

**Casey's POV**

My eyes open slowly and I'm immediately hit with the most miserable feeling of my life. I moan deeply, rolling onto my back and squinting in the bright sunlight that's coming in through the window. My head is pounding and I'm completely nauseated.

I reach out for Alex. Somehow during the night I must have rolled away from her. My fingers claw desperately at the sheets, searching for my wife.

But I don't feel her anywhere. I pop my eyes open and sit upright in bed in surprise and fear when I realize I'm not in our room.

The sudden movement causes the room to spin and I have to swallow a strong wave of nausea. I'm looking around the room, my breathing hitching in my throat as I take in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Where am I? What the hell is going on? Where's Alex?

I look down at myself and gasp when I realize I'm naked. I'm starting to panic now; my heart is pounding right out of my chest. What in the world is going on?

I wrack my brain to recall the last thing I remember. The fundraiser…yes, I was at the fundraiser last night. I shook hands and talked and was amazed by the turn out. I wore that dress that Alex and I picked out.

But why am I naked now? Where am I? Whose bed is this, and why am I not back in the hotel?

Suddenly my stomach lurches and I bolt out of bed, nearly tripping myself when the sheets get tangled around my feet. I'm running as fast as I can across the room to what I believe is a bathroom right off to the left, but it feels like I'm running in slow motion. My movements feel sluggish and my head feels like it weighs a million pounds.

I make it to the bathroom just in time to throw open the toilet and empty my stomach contents into it. I retch so hard that my ribs hurt, and I just keep getting sick. It doesn't seem to stop. I can't remember the last time I was this violently sick. When I've finally finished vomited, I put my arms over the toilet and rest my head on them, struggling to catch my breath, only to have the burning sensation in my stomach return and cause me to get sick again.

This time when I'm finished I collapse on the floor and lay on my side on the hard linoleum in front of the toilet. The lights are hurting my eyes, but I know this isn't a migraine. This is something else entirely….and whatever it is scaring the hell out of me.

I lay there for several minutes trying to regain my strength. I curl up into a ball and cry. I don't know where I am or why I'm naked or how I got here or why I'm sick. I'm terrified. Completely and utterly terrified.

After I'm able to pull myself together, I make my way out of the bathroom. I'm so light-headed and weak that I can barely walk straight. I need to find my clothes. I am so exposed and vulnerable this way. I don't want anyone to see me like this.

I find my bra, panties and the dress I wore to the fundraiser on the floor by the bed. My heart clenches as I bend over to pick them up. They look like they were tossed there hastily. My hands are shaking as I sit down on the bed and start to put my panties back on.

But a pain between my legs makes me stop. I hadn't noticed it until I sat down, but there's a distinct discomfort there. I feel my face go pale as I look down and see faint traces of blood on my right inner thigh.

_No….no, no, no, no, no! This cannot be happening…it can't be…I'm only dreaming…_

My mind is starting to fight through its fog and put the pieces together. I'm naked in a strange bed….my clothes are in a heap…I have pain and bleeding between my legs…I can't remember what happened to me or how I got here and I'm sick.

Another wave of nausea hits me and I run back to the bathroom and get sick again. By the time this vomiting spell has ceased, I'm sitting next to the toilet shaking and crying, clutching my knees to my chest and rocking myself back and forth.

I was drugged. Someone slipped me a roofie. I worked sex crimes long enough to be able to read all the signs. Someone drugged me, took me to bed…and had their way with me.

Someone who was not my wife had sex with me. Someone I didn't want. Judging by the pain I'm feeling and the blood, they were rough with me. Maybe I was resisting and fighting back…I hope I was.

Oh my God, I've let Alex down! I never should have let this happen! I shouldn't have gone to the fundraiser without her…this never would have happened.

After I'm sure I'm not going to be sick again, I go back out to the bedroom and get dressed. My head is still pounding but I'm starting to be able to think clearer.

I try to think of the last thing I can remember. I remember going out onto the balcony and Jenna kissing me. I remember yelling at her and going inside to call Alex but getting her voicemail. Then I remember Jenna coming into the kitchen and me yelling at her again. Then I went into the bathroom…

And that's when it hits me. That's when I know. I left my wine glass sitting outside the door; that I _do _remember. Jenna was still in the hallway when I closed the bathroom door, and I picked the glass up and finished it when I came out of the bathroom. And I don't remember anything after that.

Jenna…

I start to cry again as I desperately search around for my purse. I find it sitting on top of the dresser, and I pull my cell phone out in a blind panic. The digital clock on my display tells me it's after ten AM and I have five missed calls from Alex and two voicemails.

I start to cry harder as I look at her name. My Alex…my wife.

I start to dial 911 when the realization that I don't even know where I am hits me. I get up off the bed and approach the closed door slowly. I'm still so weak that it's an effort to walk. I open the door and it feels like it weighs a million pounds, but I know it's just my weakness.

I step out into the unfamiliar hallway and look around. The hallway is long with several doors on each side and a staircase to my left. My head starts to spin again as I step out of the room.

And then I see a note taped to the door. I tear it down and read the careful handwriting. "_Casey – After you've slept off your stupor, go back to your hotel and clean up. I expect you to come in early for work tomorrow; we need to talk." _It's from Ryan.

My blood runs cold. My 'stupor'? He thinks I was a drunk? How and when did he see me after I was drugged? Did I make a fool of myself?

I know a thing or two about date rape drugs. They strongly mimic the effects of alcohol and you can appear drunk off your ass even after having _no _alcohol whatsoever. I can remember having one glass of wine…but that's it. If I drank more after that one, I don't recall it. I start to cry and wrinkle the note up, dropping it by the door. I'm so frustrated that I can't remember more about last night.

I can't call the police; not now. I'm at United States Senator's house. I can just imagine how that would play out in the papers. "_Staffer spends night at Senator's house, claims she was raped". _They would pin it on him and both of our names would be dragged through the mud.

So I do the worst thing I could possibly do – I leave the scene and go back to my hotel.

During my years as a sex crime ADA, I could never wrap my mind around the fact that so many women went without reporting their rapes. I could never understand why they wouldn't want their rapist to face justice.

But I understand it now. I feel ashamed of myself, and dirty. The entire taxi ride to the hotel I keep looking at the driver in the mirror, paranoid that he's looking at me knowingly. Thinking I'm a slut and seeing how dirty I am. How many women leave a huge mansion in the morning in evening wear? I might as well put a sign on my back.

Almost as soon as I'm back in my hotel room, I get sick again. I'd felt somewhat better on the taxi ride over, but as soon as I walked into my room the nausea gripped me again. As I'm in the bathroom getting sick, I hear my cell phone ringing. I already know it's Alex.

I stumble out of the bathroom, breathing heavily and wiping my mouth with my arm. I feel extremely dizzy again and sit down on the bed as I pick up the phone to return Alex's call. She's probably worried about me.

Before I call her, I play her most recent voicemail message. I cease my crying long enough to pick my phone up again and play Alex's most recent voicemail message. My heart clenches when her message begins. "_Hey Casey…it's me. I'm starting to get concerned. I hope you didn't forget about me. I really miss you. I've been thinking of something I read one time. Did you know that in French, you don't really say 'I miss you.' You say 'tu me manques,' which is closer to 'you are missing from me_,' translated to English. _I love that. 'You are missing from me.' You are a part of me, you are essential to my being. You are like a limb, or an organ, or blood. I cannot function without you. So you'd better call me back before I shrivel up and die. I love you."_

As soon as the message is finished, I press 'save'. That was one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard. And now I have to put off calling her, because my tears are coming in droves now. I can't stop them. I pick up the pillow and clutch to my chest, burying my face into it and yelling, "Why?!"

It's several minutes before I have pulled myself together long enough to return Alex's call. She picks up on the second ring. "Casey! Thank God you called! Haven't you been checking your messages? You missed our Skype date last night. How was the fundraiser?"

I almost start to cry. Alex is so cheerful and happy to hear from me. She has no idea the ordeal I've been through. She has no clue that I was violated in the worst way possible and am sicker than a dog right now.

And only one of those things am I going to tell her.

"The fundraiser was okay," I tell her, swallowing harshly. I feel like I'm going to get sick again, but I take a few deep breaths and my stomach calms.

Alex is my wife…I love her…I never keep anything from her. We made a promise when we got married that there would be no secrets, ever.

But I'm breaking that promise. I can't tell her what happened; what I _allowed _to happen. I should have been more careful. I used to prosecute these cases, damnit! Why did I let myself become a victim?

And I'm supposed to go home today. I haven't seen Alex since Friday and we were going to spend the night together before I came back tomorrow morning. But I know now that's not going to happen. I don't want her to see me like this – broken and dirty.

Hiding things and lying to Alex is new territory for me, so I proceed with caution, not sure that I can stick to the designated path. It's several seconds before I can say, "I'm actually really sick, Alex. Really sick. That's why I didn't call back. I've been in bed."

"Oh no!" Alex rushes out, in complete concern for me. "Baby, what's wrong? A migraine?"

Yeah…I wish this were a migraine. I hate those things, but right now I would give anything to have that be the source of my problems.

"No," I tell her softly. Speaking loudly seems to make my head pound. "It's my stomach. I've been throwing up all night and all morning. Maybe it was something I ate at the fundraiser last night; I don't know. But I don't feel up to going to the airport and flying home. I'm going to stay in bed and try to fight off whatever this is."

"Of course, sweetheart. I understand. I'm so sorry you're sick! I wish I was there to hold you…do you want me to come? I can stay the night with you. I'd be happy to do it, Casey."

My heart breaks and this time I let out a little sob. God, this is killing me…_killing _me. Alex loves me so much that she's willing to come all the way to DC to spend the night with me. I would love to have her here…nothing would make me feel better than my wife's arms around me right now…but I can't.

I have tears streaming down my face as I tell her, "No, Alex. It's okay. In case it's a virus, I don't want you to get sick. Stay home. I'll be okay. I promise I'll take care of myself."

Alex sighs. I can tell she doesn't like this one little bit. "All right. You get some rest, okay? If it gets too bad, make sure you call me. Any time. I'll be out there before you can snap your fingers. I love you and make sure you keep checking in with me, okay?"

I can barely utter out, "Okay…I love you too." I disconnect the call and throw myself onto my stomach, sobbing into the pillow.

I just had to lie to the person who loves me more than anything in this world. She's sitting home thinking about me being sick and worrying about me. She's going to torture herself about not being able to be here with me. And _I _did this to her.

_No, Casey, you didn't; it wasn't you. It was Jenna, _I keep reminding myself. I have no memories of her doing anything to me and there were no traces of her in the bedroom, but I know it was her. I'm sure of it.

So I know it wasn't really rape. She's a woman and I'm a woman. She can't 'rape' me in the technical sense of the word. She violated me…but it wasn't rape. _It wasn't rape…._

I keep telling myself this over and over, but it doesn't make me believe it any more. She drugged me and did things to me without my consent, and forcibly so. The dull pain I can still feel and the small amount of blood is an indication of how rough she was. She used her fingers or God knows what else…and had her way with me.

But it wasn't rape…

So now I'm acting like all those victims before me whom I used to sit back and secretly judge for not coming forward sooner about their sexual assault while evidence was still present. I've left the bed and sheets behind; I'm sure there are hairs and even fluids from Jenna on the sheets. I tear off my dress and wad it up into a ball and throw it across the room; I never want to see it again. Then I turn on the shower and make the water as cold as I can stand, and I climb inside. I vigorously wash my hair, just in case Jenna ran her hands through it. I later up my body and wash every area I can reach. I want every trace of her gone. Anywhere she may have touched me, I want clean. I use practically half the bottle of my body wash and when I'm finished I stand there watching it swirl down the drain, taking precious evidence with it.

I don't feel any cleaner. I still feel dirty. I leave the showerhead on as I burst into tears and sit on the shower floor, pulling my knees to my chest and rocking myself back and forth. The cold water is hitting my back and actually causing it to ache because it's so cold, but I pay it no attention. I lay my head on my knee and continue to cry. For myself, for what happened, and for Alex. And for our life, which was perfect and content until now.

Until I ruined everything forever…

**Alex's POV**

* * *

It's nearly two o'clock by the time I reach Casey's hotel. I hastily pay the taxi drive and literally run inside the building. I had been hoping to arrive earlier, remembering the bustle at the airport the last time I was here. It wasn't any better today; in fact, it was worse.

Casey is going to be surprised to see me. She told me to stay home…but I couldn't. I can't sit home while my wife – my other half, whom I love dearly – is in a hotel room in Washington sick and alone. I had called Olivia as soon as I got off the phone with Casey and asked if she and Renee could look after the dog and ferret while I went to look after my wife. They had been happy to oblige. So I quickly packed a bag, and here I am.

I get Casey's number from the woman at the front desk and take the elevator to her floor. I smile as I clutch the teddy bear and flowers I bought for her at the airport. It's not much, but I think they will make her smile. And I know_ I_ will.

I easily find Casey's room, and I take a deep breath and knock lightly on the door. If she's sleeping, I don't want to wake her with loud knocking. I wait a few minutes and when I hear no movement, I knock again, a little harder this time.

And this time I hear footsteps approaching the door, then Casey's hesitant voice ask, "Who is it?"

"Casey? Sweetie, it's Alex."

"Alex…?" I hear her unlock the door from the inside and she opens the door, looking out at me with a puzzled expression.

She certainly does look sick. She's dressed in her plaid pajamas, and her face is very pale. Her eyes look droopy and lifeless and she looks utterly exhausted. My poor baby.

"What are you doing here?" she asks again, in a tone close to panic. "I told you that you didn't have to come…"

She's acting strangely; as if she doesn't _want _me here. And then I remember what Casey is like when she's sick. She loves to be babied as much as I love to baby her, but at the same time she likes to be left alone for certain…things.

"Casey, there is no way I could let you stay here alone. Not after finding out that you're so sick." I look past her into the room. "Can I come in?"

Casey steps aside and allows me entry, closing the door and locking it behind me when I enter. I immediately turn to give her a hug and a kiss, but she avoids me and goes to sit on the bed. My heart breaks for her; she looks so miserable. Even her walk over to the bed looked sick.

"Don't you have to work tomorrow?" she asks quietly, doing her best not to look at me.

"Yes I do; I'll go home early in the morning. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you didn't want me here," I tell her, going over to sit near her on the bed. She slides away from me when I go to touch her leg, which causes me to frown. "What's wrong?"

"I just – " she shakes her head and forces herself to meet my eyes. Her eyes have the look of someone who has been asleep for too long but still doesn't feel well. "I just don't feel well…at all. You know I get cranky when I'm sick. I'm sorry. Of course I'm glad you came."

She gives me a smile, which relieves me immediately. I knew it had to have something to do with her being sick; Casey usually loves and craves my affection. She probably doesn't want me picking up any germs from her; as if that would stop me at all.

I smile sympathetically and reach out to touch her cheek. She closes her eyes, but doesn't pull away. "I understand. I know how bull-headed you are. Are you feeling any better at all?"

"A little. I've stopped throwing up. But I still feel pretty bad. I'm weak and so tired I can barely keep my eyes open."

Those sound like flu symptoms to me. At least four people have been out of the office so far the past couple of weeks with a bad strain of the flu. Luckily I've managed to avoid it. But it looks like it made its way to the Senators office and now my wife is stricken with it.

I place my hand on her forehead, checking for warmth. Her temperature feels normal, which is a relief. And she isn't vomiting any more. Maybe she just has a twenty-four curse and it's nearly out of her system.

Casey is sitting there staring at an invisible spot on the wall. I can see her struggling to keep her eyes open, so I place my hand on her back and make a suggestion. "Baby, why don't we sleep? Let's get you under these covers and I'll hold you…you know that always makes you feel better."

The blankets are already turned down, indicating that Casey has already been utilizing their warmth. She was probably doing so when I entered. I go and sit against the headboard and motion for Casey to join me. She's sitting there staring at me with those tired eyes again.

I pat the blankets. "Come on, sweetheart. It will make you feel better. I promise."

She crawls over to me slowly but instead of resting her head in my lap like I expected, she lies with her back to me, pulling the covers around herself tightly. I frown and immediately move to her, sliding in beside her and wrapping my arms around her.

Casey suddenly jerks away from me. She rolls over to face me, catching the confused expression on my face. She looks uneasy and nervous and I watch her swallow harshly before saying, "I just want to sleep. I know you want to hold me and I want you to…but I have body aches right now. It kind of…hurts."

Of course; body aches accompany the flu. And sometimes they're really bad. I smile at my wife and brush a stray strand of her red hair out of her face, giving her a light kiss which she accepts but doesn't return. "Of course. I'm sorry; I should have realized. Go to sleep, baby. I'll stay and I'll be here when you wake up. I love you."

"I love you too," she answers, and then turns around, putting her back to me again. I watch her intently and just a few minutes pass before her breathing is evenly spaced, indicating that she's asleep.

I'm glad she's resting, but my heart breaks as I watch her. I desperately want to hold her. But I have to respect what she wants right now. In the morning before I go home I'm sure she'll feel better and will let me hold her, maybe even play with her hair.

Until then, I'll enjoy sitting here and watching the woman I love sleep.

**So what did you think? Sad? What do you think Senator Palmer is going to tell Casey? Please review and let me know what you thought of the chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Glad so many of you are enjoying this! Thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoy this one and have tissues handy**

My cell phone alarm blasts to life at five AM the next morning. I purposely set it so early so I could get ready to catch the seven AM flight back to New York. The noise startles me, and I reach and absentmindedly feel around for my iPhone on the nightstand. I find it and quickly silence it, in such a rush that I drop it. I don't want to wake Casey; there's no reason she has to get up this early, especially since she's been sick.

But unfortunately, Casey wakes up. She rolls over on her side of the bed so she's facing me and yawns in that adorable way she has. I smile and lean down to give her a kiss. She pulls away from me slightly and doesn't return my affection. Instead she sits up in bed and seems to be in an almighty rush to get out of bed. "What time is it?"

That's the first time Casey has not reciprocated one of my morning kisses, and it concerns her. Her being in such a rush to leave bed is very out of character for her. She likes to stay in bed and cuddle as long as humanly possible.

I sit up too, worry written across my face. I hope she isn't still sick. "It's five AM. You don't need to get up; I just got up to catch a seven AM flight. Are you okay? Are you feeling better? I'll stay if you're still sick."

Casey looks away from, tucking a strand of her red hair behind her ear. That's her nervous tick. Why is she nervous? It's just me.

"No; I have to get up too. Ryan asked me to come in early today. And yes, I'm feeling better, thanks."

I watch in shock as Casey throws the covers off herself and gets out of bed without a word. She goes into the bathroom and I hear running water, then she emerges a few minutes later. She barely looks at me as she says, "You can have the bathroom first since you need to get to the airport."

I can only sit in bed staring at my wife and trying desperately to figure out what's going on. This is not her usual behavior and she said she's feeling better…what on earth is going on?

Then it hits me – she's mad at me because I didn't go to the fundraiser. That's why she wasn't happy to see me yesterday. It wasn't just because she was sick; it was also because she was angry with me.

That familiar guilt I had been crippled with all week grips me again. How could I do this to her? I bailed on my sweet beautiful wife for _work. _If I were Casey I would be mad too. Except Casey would never do that to me, and I know it.

"Baby," I say quietly, getting up and slowly approaching her. She's careful to avoid eye contact but I wrap my arms around her anyway. She doesn't hug me back, but does allow me to hold her. "You're mad at me, aren't you? Sweetheart, I am _so sorry _I couldn't go to the fundraiser. I – "

Casey suddenly pulls away from me, shaking her head quickly. Her eyes are wide in shock. "No! I'm not mad about that, Alex. I'm not mad at all. And the fundraiser was…" she trails off, and I see her swallow harshly. "It was terrible. I shouldn't have gone at all."

My face falls. "Aww, I'm sorry. Did something happen?"

"No," she says quickly, tucking her hair behind her ear again. "It was just boring and a waste of my time. A bunch of stupid drunk politicians telling dumb stories. It wasn't worth it."

"I'm sorry; but that's kind of what those fundraisers are like. I still wish I could have gone though." I hesitate a few minutes and then venture, "Are you sure you're not mad?"

She looks at me this time. Her green eyes are shining and intense. "I said I wasn't mad, Alex. Why?"

"Well, you just seem…off."

She walks away from me to the small closet and begins looking through it for clothes to wear for the day. "I'm not mad Alex – drop it. Go get ready for the airport; I have to get ready for work to."

Casey's behavior isn't off – it's _way off. _She never acts this way with me. She loves affection as much as I do and we drag out our mornings so we have extra time together before we go our separate ways for the day. And Casey is usually at her most affectionate when she first wakes up.

If she isn't mad, than what is going on?

I clear my throat and step up beside Casey, watching her select a black suit and take it down from the closet. "Want me to go get breakfast? They serve it here, don't they? I have time for a quick bite before I get ready. I'll do a rush job this morning."

"Not hungry," Casey answers quickly. She acts as if I'm not even there, hanging her suit blazer and pants over the back of the chair at the table and searching for her shoes. She finds them and drops them right next to the table, then looks at me again. "Are you going to get ready? I said I needed to be at the office early."

I'm becoming very concerned now. I can tell Casey is upset and mad at me; why won't she just admit it? She knows what keeping things bottled up inside does to people. And she knows we tell each other everything; she knows I'll understand her feelings.

"Casey…" I begin, trying to gather my thoughts. "Baby, I know you're mad. I can tell. You're not your usual playful cutesy self. Please – "

Casey spins around, an intense look etched into her beautiful face. Her eyes are flashing. "I said _drop _it, Alex! I'm not mad…how many times do I have to say it? And do I really have to be cutesy and playful every day? Maybe it's time I grew up, huh Alex?"

Her outburst startles me. I have witnessed Casey angry, but never like this. Her hands are shaking and she looks like she's going to cry and I actually think she's more upset than angry. This is breaking my heart. I reach out to touch her, but she moves away, so I resign myself to just saying, "I love you being cutesy and playful. What's the matter, Case? You seem really upset…why don't we sit down and talk?"

Casey sighs in frustration. "Drop it, Alex! I mean it! And I don't have time to talk…I have to go to work. And you need to go home. So please go get ready so I can do the same."

I stand there staring at her sadly as she turns away from and busies herself with something in her suitcase. Before she turned away, I saw tears in her eyes. She doesn't want me to see her crying.

"Do you want to shower with me, honey?" I suggest, using my softest tone on her. I want to touch her, but I manage to stop myself. I know she doesn't want that right now.

"No," she answers sadly without turning around. "Now please go get ready." Her tone is soft and calm this time.

My heart breaks even more. I can't stand seeing my baby this way. This isn't Casey. I know she was sick yesterday and probably still doesn't feel one-hundred percent, but I can't help but feel something else is going on here.

I can't just let this go. I love Casey way too much. I swallow and find my voice again. "Casey…I really think we should talk…"

She spins around again and this time her eyes are watery and red and she doesn't seem to care that I can see she has been crying. Her body language is angry and nervous. "Alex! Please! Did you not hear me when I said I can't talk right now? I have to go to _work _and so do you! I don't want to be late."

"Case, you have plenty of time – "

"God damn it, Alex!" Casey shouts, her hands shaking again. "Please listen to me for once! I need to be in _early_. It's bad enough you came here when I told you not to, and now you're preventing me from getting ready for my important job. I understand you want to talk and you think talking solves everything, but it doesn't, so just fucking drop it and go get ready for work!"

My heart finishes breaking now. Casey _is _angry with me. "I'm sorry, Casey. But you were sick and I couldn't stand to leave you alone. I love taking care of you. You know that."

"Well, I don't _need _you to take care of me. I took care of myself just fine before you came yesterday." She slams her suitcase closed and faces me once more. "Are you going to get ready or do I need to take a shower somewhere else?"

I don't even know what to say. Besides the time I cheated with Olivia, I can't recall Casey ever speaking to me this harshly. It brings tears to my eyes and my heart actually hurts. "Fine. I'll leave you alone."

"Good. That's what I want," she answers quickly, and that makes me hurt worse.

I decide to honor her wishes. I turn to go into the bathroom, and turn only once to ask her, "Are you still coming home tonight?"

"Why wouldn't I?" she demands, and looks away from me quickly.

"No reason," I tell her. And then with a broken heart, I go into the bathroom to get ready for what I already know will be a bad day.

* * *

**Casey's POV**

I'm the worst human being on this planet. Seriously; there is no one worse than me. Not even the evilest scum I've prosecuted in the past can compare to me now.

I lashed out and hurt the person I love the most in this world. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. She was so worried about me and desperately tried to comfort me and show me affection, and I had brushed her off like she didn't matter. Like I didn't care. I will never forget the heartbreaking look on her face when I blew up at her back at the hotel.

I wanted her affection. I wanted to collapse into her arms and cry myself out and tell her what had happened to me at the fundraiser. I wanted to tell my wife so she could make it better like I know she would. She would have held me and kissed me and told me loved me and promised to make everything okay again. That's what I wanted.

But what happened instead was that I broke my wife's heart and she left the hotel thinking I was angry with her. As soon as she was showered and ready and had walked out that door, I had collapsed onto the bed and cried for a half hour before I could bring myself to get ready for my day. I was upset and angry at myself for hurting the person I loved in such a horrible way and keeping such an awful secret from her.

But I feel too ashamed of myself for letting the incident happen in the first place. It's my fault. I should have been paying more attention to what was happening around me. I worked in sex crimes; I have experience with these matters. If anyone should have seen it, it was me. And I didn't.

I've taken two showers since the incident and I can still feel Jenna all over me. I can't remember her touching me or anything she did, but my mind knows she did it and I can feel her on every part of my body. I couldn't even look myself in the eyes in the mirror this morning.

I feel different; vulnerable, exposed. As if everyone can look at me and tell what happened. I walk into Ryan's office not with my usual pace or cheerful greeting to the staff, but instead with a nod and my head down. I can feel people's eyes on me, watching me as I make my way through the office to Ryan's door.

Do they somehow know? Can they tell I'm different now?

I pause outside Ryan's door and my stomach clenches. What exactly is he going to tell me? What does he know about that night? He thought I was drunk…did I do something regrettable?

I take a deep breath, swallow, and knock on his door. Seconds later he tells me to come in.

He doesn't greet me with a smile. In fact, he gives me no greeting at all; only motions to the chair in front of his desk and instructs me to sit down. I can tell by the look on his face that he's angry with me.

And that theory is confirmed when he starts to speak. "Casey, I want to say that I'm really disappointed in you."

I'm sitting there like a disobedient student being chastised by the principal. My posture slouches and I wring my hands nervously in my lap. I honestly have no idea what I did, and that makes it so much worse.

"Your behavior at the fundraiser was unacceptable. I had thought everything was going smoothly…you made the right impressions on the right people. There was talk about you from several high ranking guests at the party. I know how nerve-wracking these things are; especially your first time. But you getting drunk as soon as you were out of my sight is both unprofessional and unacceptable. Jenna told me you had several glasses of wine and a few beers."

Hearing Jenna's name sends a hate pulsating through my veins and I feel like I want to vomit. I squeeze my hands together tightly and suppress the words I really want to say, _"I wasn't drunk. Jenna drugged me, then she raped me in your guest bedroom."_

"You can imagine my shock and disappointment when you came staggering into the hallway and collapsed. I couldn't believe it was you; the Casey Cabot I know would never do a thing like that. She's strong and driven and too professional to pull a stunt like that. But to my disbelief, it was you. And I wasn't alone when I found you; I was with a group of top donors for the Democratic Party and some Congressmen, who all witnessed your little slip-up. The talk after that was no longer about Casey Cabot becoming a rising star within the party. I don't think I have to tell you where the conversation went after that."

I look away in shame. I can't believe that happened. How _dare _Jenna do this to me? She's tarnished my reputation and killed any respect Ryan had for me.

"And I have to agree with them, Casey. It pains me to have to say this, but if you require liquid courage to calm your nerves in that type of situation and could behave so callously in front of people you need on your side, then I don't think I can put my support behind you either. If you decide you want a career in politics, I'm afraid it's going to be difficult, given the caliber of people who witnessed your…performance."

I want to burst into tears. I feel so low. The only time I felt this low was when Elizabeth Donnelly told me she was calling me before the State Bar Association. I feel like someone is stabbing me in the stomach and squeezing me until I have no air left. I can't even bring myself to look at Ryan; I'm much too ashamed. And I can't think of a single thing to say to defend myself. He wouldn't believe me, anyway. Women don't rape other women.

I manage to utter out two words, "I'm sorry," but that's all I can do.

Ryan leans back in his chair. "I'm sorry too. I wish things could be different…but they are what they are. When you're under a microscope, these things matter. And do you have any idea what the papers could have said about you spending the night at my house? I've already had one scandal…I don't need another."

My stomach clenches even more. "I'm sorry, sir," I say quietly. Calling him Ryan is out the window now. I don't have his respect anymore; he no longer considers me an equal. I blew it.

He nods at me. "I have an early meeting. Go to work."

And that's it; he dismisses me as if I just walked in off the street. All these months I have worked for him, all the belief and respect he had for me; it's gone just like that. I'm no longer special. I'm just another person on his staff now. A person on his staff who has disappointed him greatly.

I leave the Senator's office with my tail between my legs. I feel almost as ashamed as I did when I woke up and realized what had happened to me. I lean against the closed door and have to take several deep breaths to keep from breaking down. I can't have a meltdown right now – not in front of the entire staff.

I have to put my big girl pants on and plow through the day. I can't show how I really feel.

I take a moment to compose myself and then I go back out into the main office. A few people look up at me but I don't become the object of attention for the entire room, which I'm glad for. But I know several staffers were at the fundraiser – just how many witnessed or heard about my "slip-up"? Do any of them respect me anymore?

I'm about to go over and check the fax machine for any faxes for me, when Jenna enters the office. She's smiling and walking in her usual bouncy manner, talking to Rick at the front desk as if everything is normal and she didn't attack me at the fundraiser. Rick says something and she laughs obnoxiously.

My blood runs cold. Just seeing her is making me tremble. I'm angry and ashamed and every emotion you can think of rolled into one. She's carrying on as if she's an innocent woman, when I know she's anything but. She destroyed my life. She wrecked any chance I had at a future in politics. And she dares to show her face here?

She hasn't yet noticed me but I quickly make my way over to her. When she does see me, a surprised expression falls across her face. It resembles something close to fear…and I love it. I lock my eyes right on her and say sternly, "I need to have a word with you privately."

I have no idea what has come over me. I don't know how I was able to make my legs carry me across the room and how I was able to use such a strict tone on Jenna. I can only guess it's the anger surging through my entire body.

But it vanishes as soon as I close the door to the conference room, and find myself alone and face to face with Jenna. My anger still remains, but intimidation and fear overtakes it. Looking into her cold eyes makes me feel dirty and ashamed all over again…because I know what she did to me. I know the power she had over me at the weakest point in my life.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asks innocently, but I can tell she knows exactly what this conversation is about. She's trying to be coy with me.

I just come out with it. "I know what you did to me. I know what happened."

She processes this for a moment and comes back with, "Oh? You think you do?"

"I _know _I do."

She shrugs. "Then tell me. What did I do to you?" She's trying to be aloof and casual with me to throw me off her scent; but I'm wise to her game. I've dealt with too many like her.

"You…" I nearly choke on the word. I've not spoken it aloud since it happened. I don't want to say it, because if I say it, it becomes real. It means it happened. It makes me a victim. And I know I'm not; women don't rape other women. So I don't say it. "You know what you did. You drugged my wine glass, and you know what you did."

She stares at me for several seconds and I can tell she is trying to come up with the right thing to say. She knows I know, but yet she doesn't seem scared or nervous in the least. This seems to be a game to her and I'm her toy.

"I drugged your wine glass? Now how would I have been able to do that?"

"When I went in the bathroom. I don't remember anything after that. I woke up violently ill Sunday morning…I felt like I had been hit by a train, like I had the worst hangover ever. I used to be a sex crimes ADA, Jenna – I know what I'm talking about. I know about roofies. You slipped me one. And then you…took advantage of me."

She knows she can't deny it now. I have her. And yet she still doesn't seem afraid in the least bit. A smile actually breaks out across her face. "Let's see you prove it. I wasn't arrested over the weekend, so I'm guessing you kept that opinion to yourself. I'll bet you even showered right away, didn't you?"

I hate her with every fiber of my being. She knows what she did yet she's not outright admitting it.

"Poor Casey. You weren't thinking clearly, were you? Probably didn't even save the sheets…wouldn't have mattered, anyway." She puts her face up to my ear and whispers, "Because I did you on the floor."

It took guts for her to say that. I could be wearing a wire for all she knows. But I think she could tell from my expression that I'm new at this victim thing.

Her words make my knees go weak. I actually have to reach out and grab the long table to keep from falling over. I'm overwhelmed by another strong sense of shame; she did that to me on the _floor_. Like I'm an animal or something else equally less-human.

Now I know it's true. I had no doubt in my mind, but hearing Jenna pass that statement as if it was just another part of a normal day has cemented it in reality. The awful truth has been revealed in the cold light of the day – I _am _a victim. I can deny it all I want, but I'll wear that label for life now.

"You – you won't get away with it," I tell her. "You can't."

"What can you do about it now? You didn't report it. You showered. I'm sure the floor has been vacuumed by now; they wouldn't find any of my hairs. The drug is out of your system by now. No one would believe you anyway; that type of thing doesn't happen. It would be your word against mine. And do you know what I'd tell everybody?"

I swallow harshly. "What?"

"That it was two adults engaging in consensual sex. You had too much to drink and made a bad decision. It happens all the time."

Anger flashes in my eyes. "No one would believe you. Everyone knows I'm happily married."

"Even 'happily married' individuals make poor choices. In fact, they are usually the ones who do. And I can be _very _convincing, Casey. And what if I called your beautiful wife up? Told her what happened? Told her we've been having an affair every time you come to Washington?"

I feel like someone just punched me in the stomach. All the air has gone out of me. It takes everything I have for me to be able to say, "Alex would _never _believe that! Ever!"

Jenna smiles cockily at me. "Really? I'm sure she understands about politics…how 'dirty' it can be and how you can change when you get wrapped up in it. You want to take the chance that she _would _believe me? Risk losing her, and that mansion you just bought? Risk losing your damn perfect little happy world?"

My world isn't perfect or happy any more, but I certainly don't want to risk losing Alex. I know she wouldn't believe Jenna, but a small part of me fears that Jenna would somehow find a way to convince her it was true. And then I'd lose the love of my life. I can deal with losing the Senator's respect and losing my perfect life…but I can't deal with losing Alex.

So when I should be screaming at Jenna and telling her I'm filing charges, I instead find myself practically begging her and allowing her to blackmail me. "Please…don't do that. I love Alex. Please."

That doesn't soften Jenna's expression in the least, but she does say, "Just keep your mouth shut and mine stays shut too."

Alex can't know about this. It will only enhance the guilt she already feels about not accompanying me to the fundraiser, and it will kill her. And if Jenna tells her we had an affair…I know she wouldn't believe it…but still, I can't take the chance. It would hit the papers and the news and ruin our lives even more than they're already ruined. This is my problem, not Alex's; I will clean it up myself.

I have another reason to be ashamed of myself now – I'm allowing Jenna to blackmail me. She committed a crime and I'm her victim, and instead of having her arrested and prosecuted, I'm letting her get away with it. Which makes me no better than her.

I finally force myself to ask the question that has been on my mind since it happened. "Why? Why did you do it? What did I ever do to you?"

Jenna doesn't even hesitate to give me an answer. "You have the perfect life, Casey. That beautiful wife, gorgeous house, the admiration of the Senator, good looks. I tried to be friendly to you so many times, and you always shot me down and treated me like I didn't matter; like I was beneath you. You're not some goddess on a pedestal, Casey Cabot – you're human. There should be waves in your damn perfect little life."

"Is that it? That's why you did this to me?" My voice is quivering now. "That's bullshit, Jenna. That's not an excuse to do what you did! How did you even plan this anyway? How did you know you'd have access to my drink? Are you completely psycho, or have you done this before?"

Jenna gives me a cocky smile and looks at the clock above my head. "Enough questions for today. I actually have work to do. And I'm sure you probably do too, seeing as how you're not the Senator's pet anymore. Such a shame."

I like away from her, fighting the storm of emotions going on inside me right now. I'm upset, violated, angry, frightened, nervous…all those emotions are fighting for majority. I silently watch Jenna go to the conference room door and open it. She pauses just long enough to say, "Remember our deal – not a word," before she passes through them.

I'm left standing there alone, wondering if this is the one mess I _won't_ be able to clean up.

* * *

**Alex's POV**

I open the fridge and put the pizza box inside, smiling to myself as I close the door. It's after eight PM and I'm expecting Casey to walk through the door any minute. She texted me before she caught her flight to let me know she'd been in before eight-thirty.

So I'm ready for her. I picked up her favorite pizza, there's a two-liter of Mountain Dew in the fridge, and her game room is completely ready. I even went as far as stringing a red ribbon and bow across the staircase at the bottom and stocking her mini fridge with not only Mountain Dew but also chocolate pudding cups. She loves those things.

Blaze is lying on the floor by the table, watching me with interest. I give him a smile and bend down to pet his head. "Casey will be home any minute. I know you've missed her. You and that ferret. It's a good thing she's coming home; he needs his litter box changed. But we won't make her do that tonight, will we?"

I've decided not to bring up Casey's behavior this morning. I'm still deeply troubled by it but I think I understand why she was acting the way she was. No one can be in a happy cheerful mood all the time, and she probably had some residential yuckiness from being sick. Couple that will being mad at me for not going to the fundraiser, and you get her meltdown this morning. I'll let it go. I'm sure she's in a better mood now anyway.

A few minutes later the front door opens, and Blaze gets up and runs to the door, his tail wagging happily. He's not even barking, as if he knows it's just Casey.

I'm so happy to see her that if I had a tail, mine would be wagging too. I rush into the living room where Casey is sitting down her suitcase and hanging her coat up. She bends down and greets her dog, and within seconds I've closed in on her.

"Hey, baby! So glad you're home!" I catch her by surprise and she flinches when I throw my arms around her, but quickly relaxes into it and softly hugs me back. I give her a kiss and then pull away so I can look at her – and I'm immediately in troubled mode again.

She's not smiling, and her cheeks and eyes are red, indicating she's recently been crying. I feel my heart break all over again as I reach out and touch her soft cheek. "Oh, baby…what's going on?"

Casey shakes her head and walks right past me to Harrison's cage, where she begins checking his food and water and getting him out to hold him. Basically ignoring me.

This is like déjà vu; it feels just like this morning. She doesn't want my affection and she's ignoring me. I feel my heart literally plummet to my feet. I can't believe she's still upset with me.

"Casey," I start unsurely. "Are you – "

"I'm fine." She puts Harrison back and turns around quickly, managing a smile that I can tell is fake. When Casey _really _smiles, her entire face lights up and her eyes practically sparkle. But right now her eyes and her face are deeply sad. "I just had a horrible day at work. Horrible."

She goes over to the couch and collapses on it, resting her arm on her forehead. "And I feel a headache creeping up on me."

I should have known to attribute her behavior to that. Sometimes when she's getting headache that's developing into a migraine, she gets moody and short with me. I always let it go because I know how much she's going to be suffering.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry." I sit down by her feet and put my hand on her knee. "Why don't I go get your pills? Get a couple in you before a migraine hits. The doctor said it might prevent it from getting bad. Want to at least try? I know you say they don't work, but at least try it…I don't want to see you suffer."

Casey suddenly sits up quickly, shaking her head again. "It won't get that bad. It was just a very high stress day."

I slide closer to her and place my hand on her back. I feel her stiffen, but she doesn't pull away. I frown to myself. Usually this gesture ends in Casey leaning her head against my shoulder. I guess she doesn't feel up to it tonight.

"Did something happen?"

"No. Just a lot of work and a small incident that I took care of."

I desperately want to pull her to me and start playing with her hair, but I know I have to respect that she isn't feeling that right now. So I opt instead for words. "Well Senator Palmer is lucky he has someone capable like you to take care of things. I'm really proud of you."

Those words – meant to lift Casey's spirit and make her smile that beautiful smile of hers – have the opposite effect. She stands up quickly, clearing her throat and saying, "Yeah…anyway, I'm going to catch a shower and if you don't mind, I'm going to bed early."

Casey suggesting going to bed before nine PM is absurd. She _never _wants to miss an evening cuddle on the couch or miss watching a movie together.

"That's fine, Casey," I tell her, not able to hide the disappointment in her voice. "But I was actually hoping we'd have a late dinner together. I got your favorite pizza…and I have a surprise for you. Do you feel up to it?"

Casey looks down at the carpet, as if trying to think up an excuse to use. I feel my heart literally shatter on the spot. She looks so sad and broken…what is going on?

I move toward her, determined to break through her exterior. She's my wife and I love her, and I'm not letting her do this to herself. She's going to tell me what's going on; I have a right to know. "Casey, you have to talk to me. What's going on?"

She finally meets my eyes and I nearly start to cry. Her sparkle is completely gone and has been replaced with a sad, desolate look. "I told you I had a bad day and I have a headache. But I guess I can have a few slices of pizza. I didn't eat at all today. And I'll see the surprise."

I hover for a minute, trying to decide whether or not this is acceptable right now. She's willing to eat…that's good. She said she'll see the surprise…that will cheer her up. Maybe I don't have to push her anymore right now.

I switch from my worried hovering mode to full excitement. If I have a positive attitude, maybe it will rub off on Casey. "Great! Surprise first." I tell her, shepherding her into the kitchen. She comes along obediently and I pause by the sink, filling up a glass of water and handing it to her. "Here. I'll go get your pills. I want you to take them, just as a precaution. Then we'll see your surprise."

She stands there holding the glass without a word as I go into the medicine cabinet in the bathroom to fetch her migraine pills. Usually she'd be fighting me about the pills, but she doesn't seem to have any fight left in her tonight. My poor baby.

When I return to the kitchen, she's still standing exactly where I left her, staring out the little window above the sink with a lost look in her eyes. She actually jumps when I touch her arm but quickly snaps out of it and takes the pills without me even having to ask her.

Once she's downed a satisfactory amount of water, I smile and take her hand. We start walking towards the basement door, Blaze right at our feet. "It's in the basement."

"You said you lost the key to the basement."

I let a smirk out. "I lied. I was trying to keep you out of there while getting ready for the surprise. And this wasn't all me; Renee and Olivia helped a lot too, so you'll have to thank them too."

I open the basement door and switch the light on. There's not enough room for us to walk side-by-side, so I go first, pulling Casey down after me. Before we reach the bottom, I tell her to close her eyes. She does so, and I duck under the red ribbon and position her in front of it. "Okay – open your eyes."

Casey opens them, and they immediately fall on the bow in front of her. She smiles. "What is this?"

"A gift. Walk through it. You have to actually come down here to see."

She walks through the ribbon and bow, causing it to fall to the floor, and finally enters the basement. She looks around in awe at the TV, the couch and the entertainment center. She takes a few steps further in and turns around in complete shock. "Alex…you…you didn't have to do this…" I see tears in her eyes.

"I know," I tell her excitedly, walking over to the entertainment center and proceeding to show her that everything is hooked up. "I wanted to – because I love you. Everything is working. Your Wii is down here, and I got an XBox 360 and Kinect on Olivia's advice…she thought you'd like that. She picked out the games for it. She and Renee hooked everything up and mounted the flat screen." I move away from the entertainment center and place my hand on her fridge. "And this is loaded with Mountain Dew and pudding, just for you. And the couch I picked out. If you don't like it, we can return it."

Casey walks over to the game consoles and touches them. She has her back to me, but I can tell she's crying. "Alex…I don't deserve this."

I step up beside her. "Of course you do. This your place – the Casey Cave. I figured we could play bowling and Mario Kart together and I'll come down here to watch you play your other games. We can put a dog bed down here for Blaze."

She turns around to face me, tears running down her cheek. She starts to say something, but stops herself.

I wonder if I made a mistake. Should I have waited to show this to her? Was it bad a time?

"Casey…sweetheart, don't cry. Do you not like it? It's okay if you don't…"

I can't help myself now. My heart actually hurts. I reach out and pull Casey against me, hugging her tightly. She allows me to hold her this time and lets out a few more sobs before pulling away and putting her watery eyes on mine.

"I love it, Alex. It's wonderful," Casey says, wiping her eyes. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome." I smile and gesture to the couch. "Why don't we sit down and talk? I can bring the pizza down here."

"I don't need to talk, Alex. Nothing's wrong. It's just…it was a bad day. I was sick on Sunday and then today was horrible and I'm just feeling emotional. Nothing's wrong. I'm in a funk today. I need a good long sleep tonight and I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow."

I'm inclined to believe her words, as much as I know I shouldn't. But I put myself in her place – I've been there before. Just getting over sickness, stress at work, exhausted…it does make you act as you normally wouldn't. And sleeping more than eight hours does wonders to make you feel better. It's usually good medicine for me.

"Okay," I give in, with a smile. "I'll leave you alone. You do look tired. How about I get that pizza and we eat down here, and then go to bed?"

Casey looks to the flat screen on the wall. "Actually I think playing a game might help get my mind off things."

Good – she's getting it into it. Wonderful.

I get up and go over to the game rack. "Sounds good – what do you want to play? Mario Kart, so you can kick my butt? Or something different?"

Casey doesn't answer, so I turn around to face her and notice her watching me sadly. Then she says, "I would actually prefer to play alone, Alex, if you don't mind."

My heart falls to my feet again. "Oh. Okay," is all I can say, as I step away from the game rack. I can't hide the hurt expression on my face as I face the couch. "Want me to just sit here and watch?"

"No. I want to be alone. And could you bring down the spare blanket and pillow from the hallway closet? I might be a while."

She wants to be alone. Casey doesn't want me with her. She usually loves me being with her when she games, because she brags about her progress while I make sarcastic comments about the game. We always make it fun. And Casey _hates _being alone. She whines at me if I take too long getting to bed. So hearing her say she wants to be down here _alone _with a blanket and a pillow hurts me more than I thought possible.

I don't even know what to say. I feel tears stinging at my eyes. "You – don't want me to sit with you? What if your headache turns into a migraine? You shouldn't be alone, Casey."

"I'm okay," she says again. She pats the couch and Blazes jumps up beside her, positioning himself so she can stroke his back. So she wants the dog but not her wife. She notices the heartbroken look on my face and says, "Please, Alex. I just need to be alone tonight. I need to sleep down here. It's nothing you did; I promise. Please. I love you."

"I love you too," I answer quickly, choking back the tears that want to come. I clear my throat and straighten myself up. I know I have to give Casey what she wants. If she wants to be alone, I have to allow it. As much as I don't want to…as much as my heart is screaming the opposite…I give in.

I get the blanket and pillow from the hallway closet and then return to the basement. I find Casey lying on the couch with Blaze at her feet. The TV is off and she has no game controller near her, but I don't comment on it. I just smile and tuck the blanket around her, handing her the pillow.

This is killing me. Casey should be in our bed with me, not on the couch in the basement. This isn't right. But I have to keep telling myself that it's what she wanted.

I bite my bottom lip as I finish tucking the blanket around her. The basement is heated, but I can still feel a small draft. I hope she doesn't get cold. I take a chance and sit beside her, brushing her hair off her forehead. "If you get cold, let me know, okay?" She nods sadly and I kiss her forehead. "I love you, Casey. Good night."

She returns my sentiment so softly that I barely hear it, and when I've gotten to the middle of the staircase, I hear her start to cry, which finishes breaking my heart.

**What did you think? Sad? Poor Casey. How do you think this will affect Casey's relationship with Alex? And her job in the long-run? She works with Jenna...how is she going to handle seeing her nearly daily? Any predictions as to what will happen? Please review and let me know what you think**


	6. Chapter 6

**As usual, thanks to all my loyal readers! Glad you guys like this. This chapter is intense; especially at the end. There is some minor graphic detail. Just wanted to warn you beforehand. **

I get the next morning at my usual time, but something is different about this morning – my wife isn't in bed with me. Normally Casey objects to the alarm clock and takes every spare second she possibly can to cuddle with me before we absolutely _have _to get up. It feels lonely waking up without her. Not lonely like when I wake up when she is in DC and I know she's gone for a reason; but lonely because my wife chose not to sleep with me last night.

It hurts; I feel like I was rejected by the person I love the most. Of course I know that Casey is entitled to her own private time, but I'm still allowed to be hurt by what happened.

I put my slippers on and use the bathroom. When I come out, I start towards the kitchen, expecting to smell the aroma of bacon and eggs at any minute. But there's no smells or no noise coming from the kitchen. When I get there, I find it completely empty.

Blaze comes into the kitchen from the living room, wagging his tail to greet me. I pet his head and ask him, "Where's Casey?"

And then I realize what probably happened – she doesn't have an alarm down there. She probably forgot to set the alarm on her phone and she's still asleep. So I quickly open the basement door and jog down the stairs, taking them two at a time. She needs to get up now or she'll be late.

But I find the game room couch empty. The blanket I brought down for her is folded neatly on the end of the couch with the pillow resting on top of it. I step forward and pick up the blanket, frowning. Why didn't she put this stuff away?

Then it hits me – what if she intends to sleep down here again, and that's why she left it?

I shake that thought from my head as I walk back up the stairs and put the blanket and pillow away in the hallway closet. I sigh as I close the closet door, and I call out Casey's name. She couldn't have gone to the office already; it's much too early for her to start work. I leave before she does.

My shout gets no response, so I take myself back into the kitchen to pour a glass of milk before I call Casey to find out where she is.

There's a note on the refrigerator from Casey. In her usual sloppy handwriting, she's written, "_Alex – I got up early so I could take Blaze for a walk before work. He's already been fed. Just please put him out again before you leave. I had to leave early; I have some errands to run for the Senator. See you tonight. Love you – Casey."_

Even her note is unusual. Casey is usually sarcastic even in notes. She'll write something funny or draw a smiley face saying 'I love you Alex' or something equally as cute. And what errands could she have to run at this hour of the morning? What is going on? Casey wouldn't give up a morning with me for anything. She loves our mornings together just as much as I do.

I don't even bother making breakfast. I don't even feel like a piece of toast this morning. I hook Blaze out on his runner while I shower and get dressed, and when I'm ready for my day I grab my phone. I'm sure I at least have a text from Casey.

But no. My texts are empty. My heart falls to my feet and I actually sit down on my bed and double check my messages just to make sure.

But looking a second time doesn't make any texts from Casey magically appear. So I decide to send her one. I quickly type, "_My morning is not the same without you. Text me back and let me know how you're doing. I love you tons."_

I can't remember the last time I was this sad. I obviously did something wrong, something to make Casey not want to be with me. I can't imagine what it could be…but it has to be something. She wouldn't still be this upset and distant over me not attending the fundraiser. It has to be something else.

What could I have done? I've tried to be a good wife…I gave Casey her dog and I'm always here for her. I cuddle with her and take her out on dates all the time. I put her before anything else in my life and I love her with my whole heart. What did I do?

Then I wonder if I'm overthinking it. Casey is human, and therefore allowed to be in a funk once in a while and want her private time. It's not like it happens all the time; in fact, this is the first time this has ever happened since we've been together, outside of us arguing. I'm sure she'll get over it.

I just have to remind her how extra special she is and do something to make her feel loved.

* * *

Miraculously, I have a couple free hours in the afternoon, so I decide to make the forty-five minute drive to the Senator's office and have lunch with Casey.

Normally I'd text her first to confirm she has some free time, but I want this to be a surprise. Even if I have to sit and wait for her for a little while, it will still be worth it. I rarely get to see her at the office mostly because it's too long a commute from mine to go there just for lunch. So hopefully I catch Casey at a good time and me surprising her cheers her up a little.

I notice her jeep in the parking lot when I arrive, which puts a smile on my face. Good; I won't have to wait for her. Unless she's in a meeting. I pull into the empty spot next to her jeep and cut my engine. And while I'm sitting there, a thought creeps into my mind and puts a huge smile on my face.

I dig around in my purse for the tablet of post-it notes I picked up at the office supply store yesterday. The supply in my office is running low and it's a daily necessity there but today they are going to have a different purpose. I uncap the pen I always carry with me and write, "_I love you because - you're you," _on the top note. Then I tear it off the pad and get out of the car.

Casey and I both have spare keys to each other's vehicles on our key rings, so I'm able to unlock her driver's side door and stick the note on her steering wheel, where she'll be sure to see it right away. I have a huge smile on my face the whole time.

I'm about to close her door and go inside when something on the floor of the passenger side catches my eye. I go around to that side and open the door, sighing when I realize it's an empty large soda cup from Wesco just thrown on her floor. Along with an empty chip bag and candy wrapper.

So I do what any good wife would do – I stuff the wrappers inside the cup and take it out of the car, shaking my head. I make a mental note to remind Casey why she doesn't drive my car later. It's a _car_; not a trash receptacle.

I end up tidying her backseat as well. There's no garbage back there, but there are magazines and files and a bag of dog toys strewn all over the place. I make some sense out of the mess and finally re-lock all her doors.

_Casey – woman – you are such a slob! Good thing you're so damn cute and I love you. And it's a good time you don't keep our house this way._

I've just wasted about fifteen minutes in the parking lot, so I hurry inside, tossing the Wesco cup into the first garbage can I spot.

The girl at the front desk (it's sad because I _still _don't know her name) greets me with a smile. "Mrs. Cabot! Good afternoon. How are you today?"

I give her a smile and make a mental note to have Casey tell me her name later. She always greets me so friendly and I always feel bad that I don't know her name. Makes me feel kind of disconnected from Casey's job; I should know her colleagues, at least by name.

"I'm good, how are you? Just had some free time and wanted to surprise Casey. Do you know if she's busy?"

She backs away from her desk. "I'm not sure…she just came back from a meeting about twenty minutes ago." She turns around and calls out. "Jenna? Do you know if Casey is busy?"

Jenna comes out of a small room to the right, and greets me with a smile. Jenna…that annoying girl who bugs Casey. Ugh; even that smile of hers is annoying.

"Hi Alex! Nice to see you!" She's smiling much too largely, and I just noticed she's the only one in the office who calls me 'Alex' and not 'Mrs. Cabot.' "Casey is in the back office; you can go in. I don't think she's too swamped to see you. Want me to take you back there?"

Casey was right about this chick…she gets on _my _nerves and I don't even work with her! Trying to tell me how to care for my wife when she had her migraine…give me a break.

"I think I remember how to get back there," I snap at her. I know I should be nicer, but I can't help it. The girl rubs me the wrong way.

I make my way back to the office and find the door is closed. I momentarily consider knocking, which would be the right thing to do, but I think I would get the element of surprise more if I just barged in. So I do.

Casey is sitting at the desk hunched over her laptop, and she jumps a bit and looks up in surprise when I enter. She frowns and her eyes immediately go back to her computer. "You should knock first."

"Why?" I ask cockily, strutting over to the desk and pulling up a chair. She's acting like she's still in a mood and I'm bound and determined to get her out of it. I position the chair right beside her and sit down, resting my chin on her shoulder and staring at her computer screen. She has her email program open. "Why should I knock? Am I going to walk in on you doing an intern on your desk or something?"

Casey stops typing when I say those words and stares blankly at the screen before shooting me a look. "That's not funny, Alex."

"It usually is. We joke about stuff like that all the time. You usually laugh and play right along."

She shakes her head and goes back to typing. "Yeah, well not right now. Did you want something?"

I remove my head from Casey's shoulder and sit back in the chair, staring at my wife in disbelief. Normally she'd be overjoyed to see me, and me placing my head on her shoulder the way I did would have earned me a kiss and maybe even more. But now Casey is acting as if I'm invisible, like I'm actually bothering her or something.

Like she doesn't even _like _me.

"I had a couple free hours and wanted to take you to lunch. Have you eaten yet? How about it?" I prod hopefully.

She keeps her eyes on the computer screen. "I got drive-thru on my way back from a meeting. But thanks."

I swear I can feel a chill hanging in the air. I'm surprised I'm not able to see my breath and there aren't icicles hanging off Casey. If she looks at me, I'll turn to a block of solid ice.

This isn't Casey at all. She _never _acts this way. My concern is growing to a deep worry – maybe this _is _my fault. Maybe I haven't been enough for her.

"Well if you don't mind, I'd like to hang out here for a while. I didn't get to see you this morning…I missed you. It was so strange not eating breakfast together."

Again she keeps her eyes glued to the computer screen. "Sorry that I was a busy. And actually I'm busy now too. It's not a great time. Maybe you should head back to work."

I sit in that awful uncomfortable chair for maybe thirty seconds before I react to what Casey has just said. My mind is trying to process the fact that my wife has rejected me _again_. It's not an easy thing to accept.

I feel a flood of emotions coming on and I figure I'd better leave before it happens. I stand up and turn away from Casey so she can't see my eyes shining in case she happened to pull herself away from her computer long enough to look at me; which I doubt.

"Fine," I answer, matching her cool tone. "I drove forty-five minutes to come and see you, but I guess I'll turn right around and drive forty-five minutes back to my office."

I'm nearly to the door when Casey says, "I didn't ask you to do it."

And then I lose it. My emotions just overtake me and I let Casey have it. "What is wrong with you, Casey? Why are you acting so cold towards me?" I walk back to her desk and stand there, trying to keep my tears at bay. "What have I done?"

Casey finally lifts her eyes from the computer and looks at me. Her eyes look dull and sad; they have lost that shine they usually have. "You didn't do anything. It's_ me_. I'm having a rough time right now."

I feel my heart clench. I knew something was wrong. Something is wrong and my Casey isn't telling me. I soften my tone a bit. "Baby, you've got to talk to me. You can't push me away. Treating me coldly like this, sleeping in the game room…it's not going to fix whatever is going on. We're married, Casey. I love you. Your problems are my problems, and vice versa. Forever. You know there's nothing in this world that would scare me away from you. Now talk to me. Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."

Casey's eyes are shining now. I know my words have gotten to her. "Nothing is wrong…I just…feel depressed. I just feel sad and depressed. That's all."

"But _why, _Casey? What happened?"

Casey smacks her desk with her hands, causing me to jump a few feet. "_Nothing _happened! I don't know why I feel this way, okay? I just do!"

She's angry. I've worked her up. She's gripping the sides of the desk so hard her knuckles are turning white, and her breathing is rapid and jagged. She's never this quick to anger; I have to calm her down.

"Casey," I say softly, reaching out to touch her. She jerks away from me and I try unsuccessfully to mask the hurt on my face. "Sweetheart…please calm down. I'm so worried about you. There has to be a reason you feel sad and depressed. You need to tell me so we can fix it, or do something to help you." I approach her slowly. She's looking down at her desk and I take a huge chance and brush her hair off her forehead. Surprisingly, she lets me. "I love you so much, Casey. It's breaking my heart that you won't talk to me."

"I'm sorry," she says meekly, still looking down at her mahogany desk. "But I don't have anything else to say. I don't know why I'm feeling this way."

I tuck her hair behind her ear, thankful she's letting me touch her right now. "Well we'll figure it out. Okay? We'll fix it, Casey."

Casey swallows harshly and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, she's looking at me with the saddest green eyes I've ever seen. It makes my heart just shatter. "Go back to work, Alex. It's unfixable. Okay?"

Now it feels like someone stuck a hot blade in my chest and they're turning it and turning it in an attempt to rip my heart right out. "No; I _won't _accept that. You're my wife and I love you and I can fix whatever is wrong. Nothing is unfixable when you have love, Casey."

"Just…go," Casey says flatly, turning away from me again. "I'm depressed. I just need to get over it on my own. I need – "

"To talk to me – to let me help you," I finish for her. "That's what you need."

She gets angry again. She pushes herself away from the desk and throws her hands up in the air. "You're not _listening _to me, Alex! What I need is to be left _alone_. I don't need you coming to see me at my office. I don't need you hovering around me like a helicopter. I don't need you talking to me like I'm a baby, and I don't need you trying to fix me. I told you what's wrong and I will deal with it myself. I want to be alone, Alex. Respect that."

I let a tear slide down my cheek. I never thought I'd hear those words come out of Casey's mouth. The blade has ripped my heart out now; it's bleeding on Casey's desk.

"So what do you want me to do, Casey? Leave you alone in this condition? What kind of wife would I be if I did that?"

"The kind that respected what her spouse asked her to do. I'm not asking for the moon and the stars; I'm just asking for some space. Let me breath and don't crowd me. That's what I want you to do."

I let another tear slide down my cheek as I nod at her and back away from the desk. "Okay…if that's what you want. I'm going back to work. I love you."

Walking out of her office without my 'I love you' being returned is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. As soon as I close her door, I'm in a full-on cry fest. I don't even care who seems me as I hurry down the hall, past the curious eyes of Casey's colleagues.

Jenna stops me before I reach the door. She has curiosity and concern written across her face. "Alex – what's wrong?"

I say only five words to her from between clenched teeth – "Get out of my way."

She moves aside and I escape through the front doors of the office and literally run to my car. As soon as I'm sitting in the driver's side, I lean my head against my steering wheel and cry harder than I've ever cried in my life.

* * *

**Casey's POV**

As soon as Alex leaves my office, I angrily slam the lid of my lap closed and lay my head on my desk, sobbing uncontrollably. I hate myself so much right now. I hate what I'm doing to my wife. She loves me so much and only wants to know what's wrong, and all I can do is lie to her and tear her heart right out of her chest.

I promised her my honesty forever, and here I am not even a year after our wedding day, lying to her.

I have never been a liar. I've always been a strong believer in the truth. And even though I know deep down inside that I have to protect Alex for this truth, it doesn't make it any easier at all.

She thinks I don't love her anymore; I can read it in her sad blue eyes. Nothing could be further from the truth. I love Alex with all my heart and I'd love nothing more than to tell her what's going on and have her wrap me up in her arms and hold me forever. She is the most wonderful person on this planet. She put together that amazing game room for me and I don't think I even gave her an adequate 'thank you' for it. It broke my heart to sleep down there on the couch. I cried most of the night, yearning for Alex's arms around me. But I kept reminding myself that I'm not worthy of her touch now; that I'm too damaged and dirty to be touched and held by someone so wonderful and perfect. It hurts me to be around Alex. I can't stand to see what I'm doing to her, and I can't pretend nothing is wrong.

It's a horrible feeling to be uncomfortable around and unworthy of the one person who owns your heart, to know you no longer belong with them. The knowledge that you allowed something to happen to you that changed you in every way, and there is no going back now is too much to bear. I know I can't go back to the person I used to be; so I have to become someone else now.

I hear the door to the office open, and I raise my head warily. Jenna is standing in the doorway, a satisfied smile on her face. "Aw, what's wrong, Casey? Trouble in paradise?"

"Go the fuck away," I bark at her.

Instead of going away, she takes a step into the office. "Are you asking me to go away? Like you asked me to 'stop' that night?"

I close my eyes and shake my head, anger rising up from my stomach. I _had _asked her to stop. "Get the hell out of here, Jenna. I mean it."

But she doesn't stop taunting me. She takes another step closer and says, "You were pleading with me to stop. Though of course you were too doped up to get clear words out, but I understood you. You didn't want me because I wasn't Alex. But I was good, wasn't I?"

I want to wipe that smirk right off her face. I want to grab her and beat on her until she screams for me to stop, hurt her as badly as I'm hurting right now. I want her suffering. I want her cold with no breath in her lungs. I want her dead.

I've never hated someone so much in my entire life. In fact, I don't think I ever hated anyone at all until now. I disliked certain people; but no one ever evoked hate out of me.

This woman has ruined my life. She's taken my soul away and made me lie to the only person I've ever loved. She's made me hate myself again. How can she be so heartless and cruel?

"I saw your beautiful perfect wife run out of here in tears. Such a shame. That beautiful face shouldn't be ruined by tears."

Hearing Jenna speak about Alex like that angers me further. I'm actually clenching my fists, and my heart rate increases. "Stop talking and get out. I'm warning you," I tell her in the most stern tone I can manage.

But she acts as if I haven't spoken at all. "Makes me wish I had done her instead. What a nice piece of ass."

With those words, I completely snap. I jump up out of my chair and I want to grab Jenna and beat some sense into her, but all I can do is stand behind my desk staring her down, gritting my teeth. I'm breathing heavily, trying hard to suppress the sudden violence that wants to come out in me. And she's standing there watching me practically transform into The Hulk before her eyes and doesn't seem the least intimidated by me.

She smiles again and says, "Later, Casey," before exiting the office, closing the door behind her.

I force myself to sit down again and realize I've been clenching my fists so tightly that my hands actually ache. My breathing is returning to normal and I feel my heart rate normalizing.

I start to cry and I pick up my coffee mug from my desk and heave it as hard as I can at the wall. It hits and shatters into a million pieces, and I watch them fall to the ground like the pieces of my heart.

I can't believe what just happened. I've never been in the grips of such anger before. At that moment when I stood up, I felt like I could kill Jenna without a second thought. I felt like it would feel _good_, it would be liberating. I would kill her and smile when I was finished.

And these thoughts scare the hell out of me. I've never been a violent person and I've always believed hate and murder were wrong. I never thought there was justification for hurting another person, let alone killing them. But now I understand it. When you're pushed to the very limit and the thing you love the most is taken from you, what do you have except hate?

I didn't hate before because I wouldn't allow myself to. But this person I am now – this hollow, soul-stripped person – hates plenty.

* * *

The next few days are the hardest of my entire life. I thought I've known struggle and sadness before – it's _nothing _compared to this.

Alex and I barely even talk. We just exist in our house together. We sit in the living room watching the shows we used to love, sitting apart with neither of us speaking. We used to be cuddled together on the couch, chatting nonstop through every episode. We get takeout for dinner because I don't feel like cooking and we sit at the table in absolute silence while eating.

I've slept in the basement for the past three nights. I don't feel good enough to be in bed with my wife. Every night before she's gone to bed, Alex has come down to the basement and given me a kiss and told me she loves me and makes sure I'm warm enough. And every time she leaves my heart breaks all over again and I cry myself to sleep.

The last two days I have gotten up the same time as Alex and made her breakfast just because I selfishly miss her so much. The first day I did it, I could see hope in her eyes that I was feeling better and ready to open up to her, but that was quickly dashed when I left her to eat alone and took Blaze for a walk.

I know Alex loves me. I can see it in every look, feel it in every touch, and hear it in every word. As hard as I am trying to push her away, she's trying that much harder to keep me close. She's giving me space, but at the same time lets me know every day that she loves me and won't give up on me. Her words are meant to make me feel better, but they actually serve to make me feel worse. I feel even more guilty and dirty.

She's started leaving me post-it notes all over the house. The first one I found on the steering wheel of my car, and the rest have been on the basement door or the fridge. She starts every single one with '_I love you because _– ' and lists a different reason why she loves me on every one. Her beautiful neat handwriting and heartfelt words warm my heart and make me smile despite my bleak circumstances. But it also makes me sad because it reinforces the knowledge that I'm hurting Alex deeply.

I've kept every post-it note so far. I bought a corkboard for the wall in the basement, and I have them tacked up there along with photos of me and Alex. I thought it might be good to sit and look at the words and photos, but so far it's only been painful. It just reminds me of how happy my life used to be.

And Alex's weekly letter…this is the first week in the almost two years we've been together that I have not written her a letter. I've tried, but no words come. What can I say, anyway? '_This week I'm ripping your heart out.' _Somehow that doesn't seem appropriate. I'm deeply, deeply disappointed in myself to know that Alex's book of letters is going to be missing a week…and probably more.

My days have been spent working, walking Blaze, acting like a zombie around my wife, and lying on the couch in my game room playing video games all night because I can't fall asleep without Alex. Thankfully I haven't worked with Jenna in a couple days, but I can't stop thinking about her, and when I do, I get so angry that I want to throw my game controller across the room. I from being sad and depressed to angry in a matter of seconds.

I know I can't go on like this – this can't be my life forever. I look back on what I used to have and how I used to be, and I realize Jenna was right; my life _was_ perfect. It was something out of a fairytale. Beautiful wife, beautiful home, a dog, nice vehicles, money, supportive families – I really did have it all. And I never knew how much I really had until it was taken away from me. Until every bit of happiness I ever knew was drained from me like blood and left me like _this _– unrecognizable from the person I was before.

It's Friday night. If this were a normal Friday, we'd be cuddled up in bed together and reading the letter I wrote for her that week. We'd be in each other's arms and when we concluded the letter, we'd make love until we ran out of energy.

We haven't made love in a week – not since before I left for Washington last Friday. We've barely even touched each other.

I'm lying on the couch in my game room with Blaze at my feet, playing some stupid shoot-em-up game on the XBox when Alex comes down into the basement. It's after eleven so I expect her to just kiss me and tell me she loves me, then head upstairs immediately.

But tonight something is different. She stands next to the couch looking at me sadly, and then takes the XBox controller right out of my hand. "Baby, we have to talk," she says softly. I nod and she goes over to the flat screen on the wall and turns it off.

When she approaches the couch again, she hesitates and then takes a seat beside me as I pull myself into a sitting position. I'm looking into her beautiful loving blue eyes and she gives me a hesitant smile and caresses my cheek with her soft fingers. "I miss my Casey so much," she says sadly, her voice nearly breaking.

I close my eyes and turn my head away. It absolutely kills me to see her like this. I can't look at the pain in those eyes, knowing I'm the cause of it. It's too much.

"Baby, look at me. Please," Alex prods me, putting her hand under my chin and forcing me to look at her. "I have some things I want to say and I'd like you to listen before you respond, and please try not to get upset, okay?"

I swallow harshly and nod. I'll listen to her because I owe her that much, but I can't bring myself to look at her. I opt instead to look at my beautiful wedding ring, and I allow myself to trace it with my thumb. It makes my heart ache just to look at this symbol of our love.

Alex takes a deep breath and begins. "Sweetheart, I've been doing what you asked all week – giving you space. It's been incredibly hard, but I've been doing it. I respect that you need time to deal with whatever it is you're feeling and I intend to give that to you. But Casey…this is costing me so much. It hurts me deeply to see you sad and depressed like this. Every night that you've slept down here, I've cried myself to sleep. You belong next to your wife, Casey; not sleeping on a couch in the basement. You're all I think about all day long. I can't concentrate on my job because I'm so worried about you. And I'm not saying this to make you feel guilty, baby; I promise. I just want you to know what it's costing me." She picks up my hand and instinctively I want to pull it away, but for her sake I don't. I let her hold it as she continues talking. "I know I pushed you before to talk about your feelings, and I'm sorry about that. I didn't think depression could come from out of nowhere. But I've been researching it online and I've talked to some people I know. I've learned a lot about it. Depression can affect anyone, Casey, and sometimes nothing brings it on. Sometimes it can affect the happiest people…like you."

I close my eyes again when she says this. I am depressed, but there's a good reason for it. I'm not one of those poor individuals stricken with depression for no reason at all. I have a very good reason for mine. And thinking about Alex sitting in front of her laptop reading about depression alone while her wife sleeps in the basement without her is so heartbreaking that I nearly burst out crying. Alex is so desperate to find out what's wrong with me; I wish I could tell her. I _want _to tell her.

But of course I don't. I swallow my emotions and let Alex continue. "You have all the symptoms, Casey. You're sad, withdrawn, you don't enjoy the activities you once loved, you seek to be alone, you're argumentative, and you sleep all the time. I understand it's not your fault, baby. But I miss you so much. I miss your smile and your laugh and the sarcastic, snarky comments you always made. I miss holding you and having you hold me, and I miss making love to you. I miss our playful banter, and the thousand text messages you'd send me every day. I miss walking hand-in-hand and being so proud to be seen with you. I miss watching those God-awful horror movies and playing the Wii with you. But most of all, I miss _you_. My beautiful wife."

My eyes have filled with tears now; there is no way of stopping them. Every word she says is like a dagger in my heart and I just want to cry and scream at the cruelty and unfairness of this whole situation. Why am I being punished this way? How could everything be ripped away from me so quickly and easily? Why am I causing the only person I've ever loved so much agony?

I know Alex asked me to stay silent until she's finished, but I can't help but come out with, "I can't help it, Alex."

She scoots closer to me and caresses my cheek again. I know I don't deserve the warm touch, but it feels _so _good. "I know you can't, baby. And I'm not mad at you. I just love you so much. Do you realize that, Casey? Nothing in this world would stop me from loving you – _nothing_. You could commit the worst crime; you could murder someone and I'd still love you just as much as I do now. Our hearts are connected forever, sweetheart. My love is unconditional. You can't say or do anything to lose my love, I promise you."

Tears are sliding down my cheeks and everything inside me is screaming at me to tell her. _Tell her…she'll understand, and she'll love you. Tell her! _

But I know I can't. Alex's love is unconditional; this I know. But if she finds out what Jenna did, she'll never look at me the same way again. She'll always see me as Jenna's victim, and not as her wife anymore. And if Jenna were to lie and say we had an affair…well, it would destroy our lives even more.

So I sit there with tears rolling down my cheeks, listening to my wife's heartbreak and holding the most awful secret in the world inside of me. I pull my hand out of Alex's and put my face in my hands, finally bursting into tears.

"Oh, honey…" Alex says, her own voice breaking. She tries to give me a hug, but I move away from her. So instead she carefully places her hand on my back as I sob myself out. "Let it out, baby. It's the best thing you can do."

I cry for several minutes, allowing Alex to rub my back and whisper soothing words to me. I wish I could let her hold me; nothing would feel better than her loving arms around me right now. But I remind myself I don't deserve to be held by her.

After my tears have dried up, I dab at my eyes with my sleeve and manage to say, "I can't talk about it, Alex."

Alex kisses my cheek and starts stroking my hair. "It's okay; I won't make you talk to me. But I'm your wife and it's my job to help you, Casey. I can't sit back and watch this any longer. It's ripping my heart out every time I see your sad face and your sad eyes. As much as you don't want me to, I have to get you help. You need to talk to someone…even if it isn't me. Maybe get on medication that will make you feel better."

I know what she's getting at – she wants me to see a shrink and get all doped up on anti-depressants. As if some pill is going to magically fix my life. Besides, I could never open up to a stranger about what happened to me anyway.

"I know you're going to be upset, but I made an appointment for you with a therapist for Tuesday afternoon. I was referred to her by George Huang; he and I spoke on the phone yesterday. Her name is Robin Chambers and George knows her personally. She has a lot of experience dealing with depression and he thinks she could really help you. And you know I've never been a strong believer in therapy…but I think in situations like these, it's necessary."

Situations like these? She doesn't even know what she's talking about. She has no idea that depression isn't my problem; Jenna and what I allowed her to do to me is. Sitting in an office listening to a therapist tell me that what I'm feeling is "normal" and prodding me to open up to her is not going to help me in the least. And I would _never _put those anti-depressants into my body.

Alex takes a deep breath and then asks, "What do you think about that, Casey? Going to talk to Dr. Chambers?"

I shake my head. "I can't; I don't want to."

She sighs. "I know you don't. But you _have _to, Casey. For me. Because I can't continue to watch you self-destruct this way. I love you too much. If you love me at all any more, you'll do this for me. Please, Casey. I'll go with you. You won't be alone. Just try it once…for me."

I look at Alex just in time to see a tear trickle down her cheek, and it shatters my heart into a million pieces. _You're doing this to her, Casey; you're putting her in this sorrow and pain. She's heartbroken and hurting because of __**you**__._

The guilt of having Alex in so much pain is too much for me to bear, so I say the only thing that I think will lessen it – "Okay. I'll go."

Alex looks visibly relieved. She nods and even manages a smile at me. "Thank you, baby. I'm so happy to hear that. There's something else I want to talk to you about too."

"What?"

"My parents invited us to their house for the weekend. It's been a while since we've seen them, and mom thinks it might be good for us to get away. Get a change of scenery, you know? We can even bring Blaze."

I know what Alex _really_ means – she's been telling her mother how upset and depressed I am, and they both think taking me to their mansion in the Hampton's is going to cure me. Ensconce me in luxury and I'll be fine. As if it were that easy.

"I think we should go, Casey. We can leave early in the morning and come back Sunday night. Getting away would be good for us. I know you're not up to it, but…I think it will be good. We should go. I'll drive the entire way."

I'm so tired and heartbroken and guilty that I simply don't have any fight left. I don't want to see Dr. Chambers or go to the Cabot's house tomorrow, but I don't have the strength to fight Alex on either of them. I'm too guilt-stricken to make anything harder for Alex. She doesn't deserve what I'm doing to her. So if going to see her parents and me going to a therapist makes at least _her _feel better, than I guess I have to do it. Because I love her just as much as she loves me.

So I somehow find the willpower to look into Alex's eyes and say, "All right. We can go. Maybe it will be good." I know that's a lie, but it feels right to say it anyway.

Alex smiles; a real smile this time. She's genuinely happy about my decision. "That's wonderful, Casey. Thank you. Fresh air and a change of scenery will make a huge difference; you'll see. And we'll busy ourselves. We'll have a good time."

I seriously doubt that, but I nod anyway.

Alex stands up from the couch, and hovers around me uneasily. I can tell there's something else she wants to say, but she's hesitant to do so. After a few minutes, she finally says, "We should get some sleep; we'll leave early. Would you come to bed tonight? We don't have to do anything…we don't even have to touch if you don't want to. But I'd like you with me."

My eyes dart to Alex frantically. I know I can't lie in bed with her; I'll start to panic. I'll think about waking up in that unfamiliar bed, naked and sick and not knowing what happened to me. Everything I felt at that instant will come flooding back. And I can't share a bed with Alex and just lie there not touching her…it's wrong. She's my wife; she deserves better than that.

I open my mouth to tell Alex I'm not comfortable with that, but I immediately close it again. How in the world am I supposed to tell my wife - whom I love deeply – that I am not _comfortable _sleeping in bed with her? That I'd rather sleep in a basement alone with my dog? Not even depression can justify this one.

So – against my better judgment and with my internal voice screaming at me not to do it – I tell Alex I'll sleep with her tonight.

I follow her up the stairs with Blaze right at my heels, and she's talking a mile a minute. Chattering away is uncharacteristic of Alex; it's something I do when I'm nervous. But she can't seem to help herself.

I don't say a word as we enter our bedroom. I stop in the doorway and take a deep breath. I feel like an intruder in this room now; like I'm unwelcome and unwanted.

Alex tries to ease my tension by not commenting on my apprehension. She goes about dressing for bed in her favorite nightgown, and when she goes into our bathroom I sit down on the bed. A million thoughts are going through my mind right now. I'm nervous and scared and afraid I'm going to say or do the wrong thing tonight.

I never thought I'd be uncomfortable around Alex. Alex is the only person I've always felt one-hundred percent comfortable with. But right now I feel like I'm a stranger and we're meeting for the first time. I don't know what to say or do around her.

Alex comes out of our bathroom with a smile. "You want to wear that bed?" she asks, referring to the sweatshirt and fleece pants I'm wearing. It's not my normal sleep attire, but I don't want to change in front of Alex. I don't want her to see my body. She'll somehow know that Jenna dirtied it.

Alex is trying to make things as easy for me as possible, and for this I'm grateful. She makes sure Blaze is settled into his dog bed and I'm under the covers before she turns out the light and switches on our lamp.

I lie so far over on my side of the bed that I'm nearly falling off the edge. It feels strange and uncomfortable; every time I've slept in this bed, I've been cuddled up with Alex. She's had her arms around me or I've had my arms around her, or we've been using each other as a pillow. Excluding when we fight, we're never on separate sides.

Alex asks me if I'm ready for the light to go out, and I give her a meek 'yes'. She turns the lamp out, bathing us in darkness, and it's only then that I loosen the grip I have on our fitted sheet. In the darkness Alex can't see how scared I am.

Alex is careful to stay on her side of the bed, but before she settles, she says, "Good night, baby – I love you. We'll have fun this weekend."

I'm nearly crying as I say, "I love you too."

I lie there in the darkness for several minutes, trying desperately not to let myself cry. This is so hard…being in this bed is too much…I don't belong here anymore. I'm not worthy of Alex's bed.

I close my eyes in an attempt to block my tears, and I somehow fall into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

"_No – please don't…"_

_Jenna laughs menacingly. "Don't worry, Casey – I told you it would be fun!"_

_I'm lying on my back on the hard floor, completely naked. Jenna has my legs pried apart, and she's matching my heavy breathing. She's leaning down against me, her bare stomach pressing into mine. Her cold eyes lock onto my eyes and she says, "Be good; no one likes a naughty girl."_

_I start to cry, desperately trying to get away from her. I'm trying to tell her to stop, trying to scream out for help, but no words come out of my mouth. I know what she's about to do to me and I can't let her do it – I belong to Alex, not her. I try to raise my foot to kick her out from between my legs, but I'm unable to move. I can't move any part of my body – it's as if I'm paralyzed._

_Why can't I fight her off? I'm in good physical shape, and I outweigh her by several pounds. There's no way she should be able to be holding me down on the floor. _

_But yet, somehow, she is. Her knee is pressed into my abdomen, causing me great discomfort. She laughs bitterly and evilly as she slides her fingers inside me._

_I don't feel pleasure at all; I feel pain and embarrassment. I don't want her fingers inside me – they don't belong there. Only Alex can touch me in that area. _

_I start to cry harder, trying again to tell her stop, but the words still won't come. She thrusts her fingers in and out several times, the last time using several fingers at once and causing a terrible burning sensation. She does it again and again; it hurts worse every time she does it._

_When she finally slides her fingers out of me, she holds her hand up, waving her fingers and smiling. Her fingers are sticky and red with my blood. She lifts her hand to her mouth and licks off each finger, and I feel my stomach twist into knots and nausea rise up my throat._

_She decides to finger me again and again, until she's grown tired of that particular game. Then she proceeds to snake her way up my body to my breasts. She slides one hand between them and starts to lick them, taking her time and hitting every crevice._

_I've turned my mind off now. I try to block out the throbbing pain between my legs and the feel of Jenna's tongue on my breasts, and her knee pressing into my abdomen. I try to ignore the guilt and the sadness that's overtaken me. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and focus on Alex – I can see her in my mind, and maybe if I concentrate hard enough, she'll materialize and save me._

_But Alex doesn't appear. When I open my eyes again, Jenna has removed herself my breasts and is planted between my legs again. She isn't fingering me this time, though. I feel her hair brush against my inner thighs, and I start to cry again as her tongue dashes in and out of me._

_And then suddenly, someone turns on a spotlight – everything is bright, bright white. It's so bright that it hurts my eyes and I have to squint them. _

_I can make out the outline of several people standing to my left. I can hear their voices – loud, excited voices. I nearly cry in relief – finally! Someone will stop Jenna!_

_But Jenna doesn't even seem to notice. She goes about licking and fingering me as if we're the only two in the room. And as I blink my eyes, the people on my left come into sharp focus._

_Senator Palmer, Olivia, Renee, people from the Senator's office, and Alex are standing in the middle of the room watching as I'm helplessly violated by Jenna. They all gave a gleam in their eyes, and they clap their hands and laugh loudly. They laugh in unison, their cruel, haunting laughs going right through and piercing my heart. These are all people I care about…why aren't they helping me? Alex is standing there watching Jenna rape me and she's smiling and clapping! _

_My voice finally returns. "Help me," I manage to choke out meekly. Tears are running down my cheeks and I'm nearly out of breath from my fit of tears. "Please help me! Why aren't you stopping her? Alex! Alex, help me!"_

_My words do nothing to spur them into action. They continue to clap and laugh, and now they're talking at once and their voices are so loud that the sound swirls around the room and drills into my eardrums. It bounces around in my head, making it feel like it will explode._

_Jenna finally ceases her violation of me, and as she stands up from between my legs, Alex steps forward. Her smile is gone and has been replaced with a disapproving glare. She stares at me accusingly. "I don't want you anymore, Casey. You're disgusting. You belong to Jenna now."_

_The applause and laughter immediately starts back up as Alex withdraws back into formation with the others. Jenna steps up alongside them, turning her head to look at me one more time. She emits a laugh so powerful and cruel that it overshadows all other sound in the room, and I burst into flames._

I jolt upright in bed, my breath hitching in my throat and my hair sticking to my sweaty forehead. I place my hand on my chest gasping for breath, and my heart is pounding so fast that I fear it's going to come right out my chest.

There's movement to my right, and a light comes on. I immediately cry out and throw myself against the headboard of the bed, shielding my face with my hands and involuntarily cowering.

"No – no!" I rasp, my voice panicked and hoarse.

"Casey?" Alex's voice calls out in alarm, and I feel her hand come out to touch me. I flinch away; why would she touch me after saying those cruel things, and after watching Jenna violate me in the worst way possible? "Casey, baby – it's Alex. It's okay. You had a nightmare."

_It's okay – you had a nightmare._

It was a nightmare; just a nightmare. I lower my hands from my face and look at myself. I'm fully clothed in a sweatshirt and fleece pants, and I'm in bed with Alex. I'm not on the floor with Jenna. There's no laughter or applause. And my body isn't burning.

I'm drenched in sweat and my sweatshirt is clinging to my moist body. My mouth feels as dry as a cotton ball, and I start to cough.

Alex moves to put her hand on my back, and that simple motion makes me literally jump up out of bed. It's so quick and deliberate that even Blaze gets up and comes over to sit by my feet. I'm standing next to the bed in shock, my mind racing and my heart beginning its marathon again.

Alex is beyond concerned. She crawls to the edge of the bed and attempts to take my hand, but I jump back further. "Leave me alone!" I rush out. "Don't touch me!"

"Casey…baby…calm down. It's me. It was only a nightmare." She holds up her hand and climbs out of bed, taking a tentative step towards me.

But I turn and run from the bedroom. Alex's startled voice follows me down the hall, but I don't stop. Tears are stinging my eyes as I run as fast as I can to the sanctuary of the basement. Once I'm through the door, I slam it closed and latch the lock in place.

Then I collapse on the first step, sobs overtaking my body. Alex was right - it _was _a nightmare. A horrible, twisted, sadistic nightmare.

But she was wrong about the other thing. She said everything was okay. But everything isn't, because the words Alex spoke in my nightmare were true – I am disgusting, and I do belong to Jenna now.

**Okay, I am dying to know what you all think of this chapter. I worked hard to get it the way I wanted. What do you think of the state of mind Casey is in? Are things going to get better, or will they get worse before they get better? Will she go through with seeing the therapist, and do you think it will help? And the weekend in the Hampton's...disaster or what Casey needs at the moment? Please review and give me your thoughts!**


	7. Chapter 7

**As usual, thanks everyone for reading and reviewing. Glad you are enjoying this. Sorry it took a little longer than usual to get this update posted; I wanted to get it just right...and I hope I did. Enjoy!  
**

**Alex's POV**

I wait fifteen minutes to give Casey sufficient time to calm down, and then I get out of bed and immediately go to the basement door. I know without a doubt that she went down there. It's like her sanctuary; where she retreats when she's upset.

I never planned it that way. When I decided to make the game room for her, I knew it was primarily for her but I also envisioned us spending time together down there. Me cuddled next to her on the couch watching her play one of her insanely stupid shooting games, or the two of us looking ridiculous with Wii steering wheels in our hands playing Mario Kart. I wanted it to be special for both of us. Not a place Casey runs to when she's upset and doesn't want to be with me.

The basement door is locked. In spite of my worry and sadness, this angers me. Casey is my wife, and she ran out of our bedroom crying and afraid. She should know I would be worried about her. She seemed absolutely terrified of whatever she was dreaming about. Even though she wants her privacy, she has no right to lock me out of the basement.

I retrieve the spare key to the basement door from our junk drawer in the kitchen and open the door. Blaze is hot at my feet, but I make him stay in the kitchen. He gives me a whine and sits down, cocking his head at me in confusion. I just give him a pet and a small smile. Poor boy. I think he's worried about Casey too.

The light is on in the basement and as I get to the middle of the staircase, my heart breaks again. I can hear Casey sobbing. Every cry feels like someone stabbing my heart with a hot metal rod. My poor Casey. She doesn't deserve this. She used to be the most perpetually happy person in the world. I want that back.

As soon as I reach the bottom of the stairs I see Casey lying on the couch on her stomach, her face pressed tightly into her pillow and her entire body wracked with tears. I let out a little cry and immediately move to her. I resist touching her only because I don't want my touch to startle her. I crouch down and gently use my voice to get my beautiful wife's attention. "Casey? Baby, it's me. What's wrong, honey? Why did you run away from me?"

Casey lifts her head and wipes her eyes with her arm, ceasing her crying long enough to say in shaking voice, "I'm okay…it was just a nightmare, like you said."

Well she's not screaming at me to leave her alone. This is a good sign. I'm optimistic enough to stand up and take a seat on the couch beside her. I don't have a lot of room since she's lying down, but I squeeze in so I'm sitting next to her head. I desperately want to stroke her hair, but I think that gesture would be unwelcome right now. So I use my voice again. "What was the nightmare about, sweetheart?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she answers quickly, turning over so her back is facing me.

I sigh in frustration. This is so hard. I know I have to give Casey the space she needs and continue to respect her wishes to be alone, but I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. Being pushed away and watching Casey suffer breaks my heart and makes me feel sick. I hope Dr. Chambers can help her in some way.

"Sometimes talking about it helps. And you know I won't judge you, Casey. I love you." When she doesn't answer, I take a huge chance and bend down to plant a kiss on the side of her head. "You know I love you, don't you?"

"I know; I love you too," Casey says softly, her voice breaking again.

That makes me smile and I feel comfortable enough to gently stroke her hair. She momentarily resists, and then gives in to my touch. Me stroking her hair always puts her at ease. "I know you love me, baby. I just wish you would talk to me. You really scared me with the way you ran out of the bedroom. You need to open up to me, Casey."

I hear Casey sigh. "You promised not to push me, Alex."

I close my eyes and hold my breath. She's right; I did. I told myself I'd wait until her appointment with Dr. Chambers on Tuesday before I really tried to break open the lock on the vault. Maybe Dr. Chambers will know what to do to get her to open up. And if she thinks it's necessary to put her on anti-depressants, maybe they'll help. If I can get her to take them.

"I know I did. And I won't. I just want you to know I'm here." I stroke her once more and then go in for another kiss. I can't help but touch and kiss her; I just love her so much.

"I know you are, Alex," she answers back sadly. She still has her back to me.

I hope this weekend with my parents will be good for Casey. My mom adores her, and maybe the change of scenery and feeling of family will help Casey relax a little and feel better. I don't expect any miracles, but I'm at least optimistic.

"We should get some sleep so we're rested for tomorrow. It's nearly three AM. I figure if we leave early we can make good time. I'll do all the driving. Maybe we'll take your jeep? I don't like driving it, but it would be easier to put Blaze in the back of your jeep than my car. Is that okay?"

Casey can read me; I'm sure she knows what I mean is that I don't want Blaze's fur and dirt from his paws all over the nice clean backseat of my car.

"Fine," Casey answers quickly.

"Okay." I eye the couch. It would be a tight squeeze, but it's big enough for two. I bite my lip, hesitating on the suggestion I want to put out there. I hold off as long as I can then, then I say, "How about if I sleep down here with you? We can both fit on the couch. Or I can sleep on the floor if you want."

Me sleeping on the floor….now that would be a first. But I would do it for Casey without hesitation, and she knows it. If that would make her feel comfortable, I'd gladly do it.

Casey finally rolls over so she's facing me and I nearly gasp at how tired and sad her pretty green eyes look. In the saddest voice I've ever heard she says, "Please just leave me alone tonight. I'll go to your parents' house…but leave me alone right now. Go back to bed. And send my dog down."

I want to burst out into tears, but I swallow my emotions and stand up. Tears are pushing at my eyes and causing my voice to quiver, but I don't give in as I say, "Okay, baby. If that's what you want. I love you. I'll wake you in the morning."

Then I turn away from the couch and go back up the stairs, turning out the light on my way up. Blaze is still sitting in the same spot I left him, and I tell him, "Go down. Casey wants you. Even though she doesn't want me." I hold the door open and he literally runs down the stairs.

As soon as I'm back in the kitchen with the basement door closed, I let my tears fall. I stand outside the door for several minutes sobbing as hard as I can until my stomach aches from crying. This is _so hard_.

After I've somewhat composed myself, I head back to the bedroom. I know this is my fault. I shouldn't have asked her to come to bed in the first place. I just wish she would have talked to me about what the dream was about and why she seemed so terrified. What is she hiding from me?

I know I won't be able to sleep, so I lie there in bed staring at the ceiling. After several minutes I reach over and grab Casey's pillow and hug it tightly against my body, trying to suppress a new wave of tears that want to overtake me. Casey's pillow is soft just like her, and there's a subtle scent of her body wash still lingering on it. It makes my heart ache for her even more.

A blinking light across the room catches my eye and I sit up in confusion, trying to figure out the source of it and why I didn't notice it before. I grab my glasses from the nightstand and slide them on and as soon as the chair across the room comes into focus I discover the source of the light.

I left my laptop on and the light on the front is blinking, indicating sleep mode. It's sitting in the chair. That ridiculous moon chair that Casey made me buy for her. I hate the thing; it's an obnoxious pink color and totally clashes with everything in the bedroom. When Casey first saw it at the office supply store, she had turned to me and given me this pathetic wantfull look. I told her it was stupid and juvenile and something that belonged in a dorm room and not in the house of two professionals, but that didn't dissuade her in the least. Her pathetic look got even more pathetic and it was apparent to me that the hideous chair would be sharing our house. She gave me a spiel about how it reminded her of the days she spent sitting in her beanbag chair and studying for the bar exam. So guess what I did? Bought the damn chair for my wife, that's what. It now sits in our bedroom, looking like a hideous bright pink UFO. Casey sits in when she uses her computer. I always tell Casey to fold it up when it's done, but she never does. The things we do for love.

I don't like leaving my computer on so I get up and go over to the chair to retrieve it. Sighing, I sit back down on the bed and open the lid. And my heart clenches with the screen fades in and I'm staring at my wallpaper; a picture from last fall of Casey and I in the park with our arms around each other, smiling happily. This one is Casey's wallpaper too, on her laptop and on her phone. It's one of the best pictures of the two of us. Casey looks adorable; her red hair is cascading down her shoulders and she's wearing her dark denim jeans jacket. We had been married for about a month when the picture was taken. You can even see our rings in the photo. Our smiles are beyond happy, a perfect remnant of the life we had…before this.

I know this is going to make me sad, but I open the folder containing all of our photos. I'm about to click on the first one, when I see a video icon. The filename is "myadorablewife". I wrack my brain, trying to remember which video this is. I got one of those mini Sony handycams as a gift from my mother for Christmas; she said because I'm now married, I'm going to want to capture "special" moments. I had played with the thing for about a week, shooting videos of Casey and myself (but mostly Casey) until I grew tired of it. It's in the top drawer of my dresser and I don't think I've touched it since we moved.

My curiosity gets the best of me and I click on the video. It immediately begins playing, filling my entire screen with beautiful high definition video. HD; the only way to see Casey. High definition suits her well.

_I'm looking at Casey in bed, in our apartment. She's lying on her side, her red hair splayed across her pillow like a halo and her eyes squeezed shut tightly, her breathing even. I zoom in on her face. _

"_This here is the cutest red head in the entire world. Sleeping, in her natural habitat. It's very rare to get footage like this. Normally she's very feisty and sarcastic. Seeing her in this angelic state is a real treat. Look at how cute she is." I step around the bed, trying not to wake my slumbering wife and trying to keep the camera steady. "It's seven AM on a Saturday. If the redhead were to a wake, she'd be very angry and not-so-cute. She likes to sleep in on weekends." _

_I zoom in closer. God, she's incredible. Even when she's sleeping she's the most beautiful thing in the world. Her red hair looks amazing contrasted against the white of her pillow and our comforter. She's covered halfway up, but the words on her Calex t-shirt are somewhat visible so I focus on them. "The shirt she is wearing says 'I am half of Calex on it' and to those who are curious, Calex is what we call ourselves. Casey herself came up with it. It's a combination of our names, and adorable at that. Almost as adorable as the person who came up with it."_

_I lean down and kiss Casey, and as I'm kissing her, I accidentally hit her on the forehead with the camera. This immediately snaps her out of her angelic slumber. I step back a few feet, laughing hysterically when I realize what I've done._

_Casey is coming to, and she puts her hand on her forehead, rubbing the spot where the camera hit her. She has that adorable sleepy look in her eyes and it takes her a moment to notice me standing by the bed filming her and laughing. When her mind comes back to life, she groans and picks up my pillow and throws it right at me. "God, Alex! Give that damn camera a rest!" She falls back on her pillow and looks at the alarm clock, letting out another groan. "It's only seven AM…why on earth are you up? It's Saturday."_

"_I couldn't sleep. And I wanted a video of you sleeping." _

_I step closer to the bed and zoom in on her face again from right above her. She's glaring at me. "Why?"_

"_Because you're cute when you're sleeping."_

_She groans again but this time reaches up to touch my face. By now I've climbed onto the bed and I'm kneeling over her, the camera practically right in her face. Casey's eyes are excited now. As she reaches out for me, I zoom in on her wedding ring and it actually glimmers in the light. "What a nice thing to say…I guess I can forgive you for waking me up early on a day off. I forgive you, wifey."_

"_Good." I hold the camera steady and move away from it so I can kiss Casey and so it captures us both in the frame. She kisses me back, holding the side of my face with her hands and when we break the kiss, she rests her face into my neck and utters that she loves me. My heart melts and all I can say back is, "I love you too, baby."_

_I'm behind the camera again and now Casey is sitting up, deciding to be a willing participant now. I sit cross-legged a few inches from her and she asks me, "What are you filming for, anyway?"_

"_A documentary. 'The Casey Cabot Story'. Going to be a box-office hit. It's a bunch of videos of you sleeping and doing other various cute things. Only the most adorable documentary ever," I tell her._

_Casey rolls her eyes. "Oh, people will flock to see that one." Then her eyes glaze over and she gets this devilish look in her eyes. A smile spreads across her whole face. "Make it a porno…then people will want to see it. Get a tripod and film us in action."_

_My face grows red. "Casey! You have a sick mind! Do you think I want a video like that around? Could you imagine if it wound up on YouTube?"_

_Casey laughs. "I think it would go viral. Admit it, babe; we're hot. We'd get a lot of hits."_

"_Hmm…" I tell her thoughtfully. "I think that's a million dollar idea. But we'd have to blur our faces."_

"_It wouldn't be any good if no one could see your beautiful face," I tell my wife. She actually blushes at that. Casey __**never **__blushes. I can't believe it! And there's no way I can let this one go. "Aww, you blushed! And it's caught on camera! How adorable!"_

_Casey glares at me again and lunges for the camera. "Give me that tape!"_

_I jump off the bed, keeping the camera on her. "You're out of luck. This records to the hard drive. There is no tape."_

"_Then give me the camera!" Casey says. She's trying to act serious but she can't hide that amused expression on her beautiful face._

_I'm laughing now. "No. You blushing will forever be immortalized in this video for my viewing pleasure whenever I please."_

_Casey sits on the edge of the bed and huffs. "My wife is so mean…" She looks up at the camera with a desperate, pleading look. "Anyone watching this – save me! My wife is mean and tortures me. She makes me blush and films me while I sleep."_

"_Yeah, you have got it __**so **__bad, Casey. Everyone should feel sorry for you."_

_She looks up at the camera and suddenly turns very serious. "Actually, I have the best life in the world. I have the most wonderful, adoring wife who is insanely beautiful. I have a great job that I love. We're looking for our first house together, and for the first time in my life, I am deeply in love." She puts her hand over her heart, causing her ring to glimmer again and I see tears in her eyes. "My heart has never felt this way before; prideful and full of love. I love my life. I love __**you**__. There. You now have a heartfelt declaration on video forever."_

_I sit down beside her and kiss her again, capturing us both with the camera. "That was truly adorable. After the porno part, of course."_

"_That porno is a good idea and you know it," Casey says, making a face at me._

_That makes me laugh. "Stop making faces. That's immature."_

"'_Stop making faces. That's immature'," she taunts me._

"_Don't you __**dare **__start repeating everything I'm saying!"_

"'_Don't you __**dare **__start repeating everything I'm saying!'"_

"_Casey!"_

"'_Casey!'"_

_I'm laughing so hard now that the camera is jumping up and down. "You are so childish…why do I keep you around? Now everyone who watches the documentary will discover that you are, in reality, six years old." _

"_You keep me around because I'm your Casey," she says, pulling me in for a hug and causing the camera to go black. The audio stays on long enough to capture, "I'm your Casey and you're my Alex."_

By the time the video has finished playing, I have tears cascading down my cheeks. That was a prime example of how Casey – or, should I say, _my _Casey – used to be on a daily basis. Forever joking around, always cute and happy, sarcastic, affectionate…everything I loved.

Now she's sad and depressed every day and spends her time outside of work in the basement playing video games with her dog instead of with her wife who loves her.

I know this is not Casey's fault. It will never be her fault. Depression affects millions of people. I desperately want to help her, but I know all I can do is be understanding and get her the help she needs to get better. I'm hoping therapy is a step in the right direction. I want my Casey back; sooner rather than later. And I'm determined to love her through this ordeal.

I get up and go to the dresser and retrieve our wedding album from the top drawer. I sit down on the bed and run my fingers over the elaborately decorated cover and smile. I remember what a fight it was to get this album. Casey had thought it was too expensive. I open it up and start thumbing through it, the gold lettering jumping out at me. All the photos bring back good memories. Casey looked absolutely adorable in her sparkly dress and bridal tiara. Every picture I see of her she is smiling and oozing with happiness, and so I am. By the time I've finished the album, I'm crying nostalgic tears of happiness.

God, I want her back so badly. This is so unfair.

I get up and return the wedding album to its drawer and while I'm doing so I spot my book of letters sitting on top of the dresser. That book is my favorite thing I own. Every Friday I look forward to a new letter from Casey and we cuddle up together to read it.

A wave of sadness washes over me as I realize today is Friday and I don't have a letter this week. It's the first week that will be missing since we got together.

I stand in front of the dresser weeping for myself and my sweet wife for several minutes until I remember something – the post-it notes. I'm trying to use them to lift Casey's spirits and I think now would be an appropriate time.

I dig the pad out of my purse and neatly scroll out two notes. "_I love you because – you have a kind heart," _and "_I love you because – without you my life would be incomplete." _Smiling, I take them to the kitchen and stop in front of the basement door. I smile and kiss each one before sticking it on the door. Then I place my hand on the door and whisper, "Good night, Casey. I love you," before finally going to bed, alone.

* * *

I get up at five-thirty so I can make breakfast for Casey and I before we leave for my parent's house. I walk through the kitchen and go directly to the basement door, and stop when I find the door open and the post-it notes gone. Casey found them. That must mean she's up.

She's not in the kitchen or the bathroom, so I head down to the basement to see if maybe she went back to sleep or she's showering in the bathroom down there. I flick on the light and I'm surprised to find her blanket folded up on the couch and the door to the bathroom open, a dead giveaway that she's not in there. The basement is empty, and there's no sign of Blaze either.

I turn around to head back upstairs when something on the wall catches my eye. It's a large corkboard mounted on the wall. Casey must have bought it within the last couple of days; I hadn't noticed it before. I stand in front of it and look at the various items she has tacked to it. She has every post-it note I've written her tacked up, and photos of the two of us together stuck around the edges of the board. They put a smile on my face and I feel my eyes fill with tears. All those photos show good memories.

I can only stand to look at them for a few minutes before I start to feel overemotional, so I dab my eyes with my sleeve and head back upstairs. Casey must be putzing around the house somewhere; I must have missed her.

Just as I'm coming out of the basement, Casey walks through the door with Blaze. She's in her thick fleece jacket and wearing her pink and white stocking cap. I love her in that cap. She hates wearing it, but I think it makes her look super adorable.

Casey sees me at the same time I see her and gives a small uneasy smile. "I just took Blaze for a walk."

Blaze looks at me and wags his tail happily, as if he's trying to tell me he had fun on his walk. I give him a small smile. "I can see that. It's kind of early though."

Casey walks past me to the living room and hangs her jacket on our coat rack. She's acting nervous again and keeping her distance from me.

I want to ask her how she slept and if she's okay but I keep telling myself _"Don't push her…don't push her…don't push her.." _So I say, "I thought I'd make us breakfast before we get ready and head to my parent's house, how does that sound?" And in the midst of my question, a thought occurs to me. "Or we could stop for breakfast on the way…we haven't done that in ages. That would be fun."

Casey turns away from the coatrack and I'm surprised to see she's fully dressed. Usually if she goes for an early morning walk she just slaps on sweatpants or an old pair of jeans with a baggy sweatshirt. But right now she's wearing one of her good pairs of jeans and one of the blouses I bought her for Valentine's Day.

"No thanks; I'm not hungry," she says quickly, sidestepping around me and heading in the direction of our bedroom. I follow her and stand beside her as she puts her iPod and earbuds away. "When did you want to leave?"

That answers my next question; I was going to ask her whether or not she still wanted to go. I feel a bit of relief at the knowledge that she's planning on going.

"Just as soon as I get ready, I guess. Looks like you're already set to go. How long have you been up?"

Casey turns away from her drawer and sits on our bed, barely looking at me. "A while," she says vaguely.

What I wouldn't give to sit with her and hold her as she opened up to me about her feelings and her nightmare. We'd cry together and spend the entire weekend entwined with each other. I can't think of anything better.

But I know I can't, so I settle for her accepting the fact that she's going with me to my parents' house instead.

"You sure you still want to go today?" I ask cautiously.

"Didn't I promise you? I said I'd go," she snaps at me.

"Yes you did," I say quickly, trying not to let her get angry. "I'm sorry. I'll get ready and we can leave."

She nods. "Yes, please hurry. I have a headache and if it's going to turn into a migraine I don't want to be on the road in the bright sunlight. So don't take your usual insanely long time getting ready."

I immediately gather some clothes to take into the bathroom, eyeing Casey the entire time. Her speaking to me that way is one-hundred percent out of character. I understand she's going through a lot – and her headaches always make her cranky – but hearing that tone from my wife hurts me deeply.

I tell her I'll be quick and head into the bathroom. Before I close the door, I cast one last glance at Casey. She's sitting on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands. I sigh. This is going to be a long weekend.

* * *

**Casey's POV**

We've been in the car for nearly three hours, and I want to kill somebody.

My headache has morphed into a nice migraine. Not unbearable yet, but it's heading that way fast. The sunlight is so bright this morning that I've had to put my visor down and sit up as tall as I possibly can in the passenger seat to make it do its job. It's blocking out the direct sunlight now, but light is still coming in from the sides and making my head pound.

Alex looks at me worriedly again. "We're almost there, baby. I'm trying to hurry. Been going over the speed limit the entire trip; I'm surprised I haven't been pulled over."

I just nod at her and stare intensely straight ahead. I knew this was going to happen. With the stress I've been under this past week, a migraine was unavoidable. I'm surprised it took this long. When I developed a headache this morning, I knew exactly what was going to happen. It just had that feel to it. I knew what I was in for.

Obviously this universe doesn't think I'm suffering enough. My perfect life has been ripped apart, Jenna is taunting me at work, I feel sad and angry all the time and not only am I enduring a weekend with Alex's overprotective mother, but I also have a migraine on top of it.

I didn't want to come today. I wanted to stay in the basement with the lights out and sleep all day long. That sounds like paradise to me. Alone, without hurting Alex the way I hurt her last night. I'd probably be plagued with another awful nightmare, but at least Alex wouldn't be there to witness it this time.

I can't get that nightmare out of my head. It was so real, so vivid; like I was actually there. I could feel Jenna's fingers inside me. It _hurt_. I actually felt pain. How can you feel pain in a dream? And the laughs of everyone I care about…that was the worst sound I've ever heard. I was helpless and humiliated and no one wanted to help me. They all thought it was funny, that I was dirty and getting what I deserved.

Alex had said she didn't want me anymore, that I belonged to Jenna. And even though those were words spoken to me in a dream, I believe them. It's as if Alex actually said them to me. I know she loves me, but I can't help but notice the sheer disappointment in her eyes when she looks at me now. I'm no longer good enough for her; I'm not the same girl she married. And sooner or later she's going to realize it.

Bringing me to the Cabot mansion in the Hamptons isn't going to change my mind. And neither is some stupid therapist.

The pounding in my skull is getting worse and now the nausea is flaring up. I need to lie down soon or I'm going to be _really _suffering. If we weren't so close to her parents' house, I'd ask Alex to stop at a hotel so I could get some sleep.

Alex seems to sense it's getting worse. She says, "We're less than ten minutes away, Case. Hold on, okay, baby?"

I hear Blaze whine from the back and suddenly he's nosing the back of my arm. I reach back and stroke his soft fur. I wonder if he can sense I'm in pain?

Alex grabs her phone from the dashboard and quickly hits a speed dial. I hate when she talks while driving, but I don't have the strength to argue with her this time. I watch as she presses the phone to her ear with a determined look on her face.

After a few seconds have elapsed, she says, "Mom? Yeah, it's Alex. We're almost there; about eight minutes out. Listen, we have a problem. Casey has one of her bad migraines." There's a pause and then she says, "Yeah, I'm thinking that. Could you get my room ready for her? Put a glass of water in there and a garbage pail by the bed just in case. And draw the shades. She needs it dark." Another pause. Then, "Thank you. See you soon."

I feel my heart swell as Alex puts her phone back on the dashboard and smiles at me. "Mom's going to get the room ready so you can lie down right away. Sleep off the migraine, then we'll visit when you feel better. Oh, and I brought your pills. They're in my purse. I want you to take a couple when we get there. Just humor me, okay?"

I can't look at her. It hurts too much to know she loves me as much as she does.

Suddenly my walls are going up higher and I have the urge to just run from the car. The desire to be alone grips me and holds me tightly. Alex is so considerate and loving, and look what I'm doing to her. I don't deserve her at all. I'm dirty and stupid.

We pull into the Cabot's massive driveway about seven minutes later. Alex immediately gets out and runs around to my side of the jeep. She opens the back door first to let Blaze out, then opens my door and crouches down to my level, offering me a small smile. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you inside. Is it any better at all?"

I allow her to help me out of the car but once I'm standing I shake her off me. I don't want her hands on me right now. I want to go lie down in bed in that dark room and let the pain and sadness swallow me whole. I'm glad I have this migraine; I deserve to suffer greatly.

Alex's parents come out the door just as we start toward the house. Her mother is off the porch first, hurrying towards us with a concerned look on her face. She stops right beside me and Alex opens her mouth to protest what her mother is about to do, but it's too late. Caroline puts her arm around me and asks, "How are you Casey, honey? I have the room darkened and ready for you to lie down…"

She's already driving me nuts, her voice drilling into my head and her overbearing and protective attitude clashing with my bitter pain-induced mood. Before I can stop myself, I say, "Please get away from me. I don't want to be touched right now."

I say it in a serious tone and not in a mean way, but the words enough are so shocking that Caroline actually stops mid-step and removes her arm from around my shoulders. She looks at Alex and Alex just returns her look with a sad, sympathetic gaze.

I hate being the cause of so much turmoil and hurt feelings. Why can't I just be _normal_?

I walk right past Alex's father without even offering him a friendly 'hello.' Making small talk with the in-laws that I'm hurting as much as I'm hurting my wife isn't something that interests me. I hear Caroline remark at how beautiful Blaze is as we walk in the door, and I know she's just looking for a subject change. And guess what? I'm not in the mood.

The lights from inside the house increase the pounding in my skull and I swallow a wave of nausea and rush out, "I need to lie down now. I'm sorry."

Alex is at my side in an instant. "Of course, baby. That's why mom got the room ready. Come on; I'll walk you up there." I say nothing to Alex's parents as I follow her up the winding staircase. This time Alex enough sense not to try and touch me.

But halfway up the staircase, I stop and squeeze the banister so tightly that my knuckles are turning white and I can go no further. A memory comes flooding back to me.

_Jenna has her arm around me tightly, supporting my weight. She's practically carrying me up the stairs, taking them two at a time in her haste to get me to the top of them. _

"_Pick up your feet! This has to be fast!" she barks at me, and I stumble when I reach the top step. She sighs and grabs me roughly around the arm, pulling me back to my feet. I'm dizzy and unsteady, and I can't seem to hold a thought or make a sound._

_Jenna takes me into the first bedroom on the left. The door is open and I hear her mutter, "This will be perfect." I have a distinct feeling of dread but I can't make myself fight her in anyway. I'm her little rag doll and I let her shove me into the bedroom and slam the door behind us._

_She grips my wrist and smiles evilly at me. "We're going to have some fun now, Casey. Don't tell anyone. It's going to be our little secret. I'm going to make you nice and dirty for that beautiful wife of yours. Does she like dirty?"_

"Casey? What's wrong?" Alex's voice snaps me back to reality, and I open my eyes wide in shock as I stare at her overly worried face right in front of me. I'm aware of pain in my hand from squeezing the banister so tightly. Alex takes a step towards me and I go down one step. "Casey…what's going on?"

That was a flashback. I know it. My mind is starting to allow me to remember bits and pieces of that evening after I was drugged. I realize that's partly what the dream was, that's why it was so vivid and real; I was remembering.

"Casey?" Alex says my name again and takes another step toward me. I'm in a blind panic now and I go to move down another step when Alex gasps and grabs me without warning. "Casey! You're going to fall! Stop!"

She puts her arm around me to steady me and suddenly all I see is Jenna. She's not Alex anymore – she's Jenna. My heart starts pumping quickly and my breath catches in my throat, constricting my lungs. I feel like I'm going to go mad. I yell out, "No! Don't touch me!" and I push Alex into the wall as hard as I can before I literally run past her and down the hall.

**Oh no...that's not good. What do you think? Casey is starting to remember and it's causing her to act out. Do you think there's hope for her? Will things get better, or will they get worse first? How far can Casey be pushed before she snaps? And did you like the video? Please review and let me know what you think about the chapter!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey everyone! The update took a little longer than I thought; sorry! I wanted to get it just right. Hope I did. Enjoy!  
**

**Alex's POV **

I watch as Casey runs up the remaining stairs and starts down the hall, crying hysterically. My heart is in my throat as I straighten myself up. Casey pushed me into the wall. She didn't hurt me and I honestly don't think she meant to do it…but she did it. She was in a panic and in a hurry.

It was almost like she was somewhere else at the time. I had called her name several times, and she stood there with a horrified expression on her face, gripping the banister so tightly I was afraid she was going to break her hand. At first I thought maybe the pain of the migraine had gotten really bad and that's why she stopped, but when she started to panic I knew it was something else. She seemed _afraid _of me.

I have to find out what is going on. I know she has depression…but it seems like so much more is going on. So much more that she isn't telling me.

I snap myself out of my daze and jog up the last few steps then I run down to the end of the hall and stop in front of my bedroom. The door is open and the lights are out, but I can see Casey lying on her stomach on the bed sobbing uncontrollably.

I step into the room and switch on the light. I know Casey has a migraine and the light hurts her, but it needs to be on right now. She doesn't give any reaction to the light being on and I approach the bed slowly and stand awkwardly next to it. I'm not going to attempt to touch her, as much as I want to. I know that will only make things worse right now.

"Casey," I say softly. "Baby…can you tell me what's wrong? Please?"

She lies there for a moment before raising her head and wiping her eyes. She turns her head to look at me, and the sadness in her eyes is so profound that it breaks my heart. "I'm so sorry…did I hurt you?" Her voice is hoarse and laced with sorrow.

My heart breaks even more and I take another step toward the bed. "No, honey, I'm okay. I'm not hurt. I promise. It's okay."

She shakes her head and the tears come again. "No, it _isn't. _I – I pushed you, Alex!"

"Sweetheart, you didn't mean to," I try to convince her, and I hesitantly sit down on the bed. Casey allows it, but watches me closely. I can tell her migraine is getting bad; she looks like she doesn't feel well. And this isn't helping at all. So I say, "I could tell you didn't mean to. I'm not mad, and I'm not hurt. We don't have to talk about it right now, okay? You need to get rid of that migraine, and then we'll talk."

I get up and turn down the blankets on the bed for Casey. She crawls underneath them and squeezes herself into a tight ball, sobbing lightly again.

I don't know how much more my heart can take. This is awful. I had seeing Casey in pain and so sad. She needs me to hold her. I always lay with her when she has a migraine attack. It helps her feel better. Right now she needs me more than ever.

The need to hold my wife and comfort her is nearly overpowering. It's my job to take care of Casey and make sure she's okay. I can't leave her in a state of sadness and pain like this. I just _can't. _"Casey, can I lay with you and hold you?"

She shakes her head immediately, not even looking at me. "N-No."

I frown to myself and kneel on the bed, slowly moving towards Casey. I know she doesn't want me, but she _needs _me. I'm not going anywhere. I lean over her. "Casey," I say again, and my voice makes Casey flinch. She has her eyes closed but I know she isn't sleeping. "You're in pain, and you know I always make you feel better. Just relax and let me hold you. Please."

I go to put my arms around Casey, but she moves away from me. "I can't be around you right now," she says softly.

Not '_I need to be alone'._ This time it's, _'I can't be around you right now.' _This is infinitely worse. My breath catches in my throat and I feel like I'm going to burst into tears or get sick.

"Sweetheart, I can't stand this. Please let me be here for you! I love you!"

Suddenly Casey sits up. She's breathing heavily and her eyes are wide in a mixture of pain and frustration. "Alex! Just _stop! _I told you to get away from me; I said I needed space! I thought you understood that. I didn't even want to come here today…I wanted to stay home and sleep in the basement. I came because of you; because _you _wanted me to. So show me some respect and get the hell away from me. Turn the lights out and shut the door on your way out."

I don't even know what to feel right now. It's like Casey is a completely different person. Seeing her this way has shattered my heart, but at the same time I know I don't deserve to be talked to in this way. I know she's going through something I don't understand; but that doesn't give her the right to hurt the person who loves her.

But I can't push her or yell at her now. She is in pain from the migraine, and she's deeply upset. So I do the only thing I can do – I get up off the bed.

"Okay," I tell her, my voice breaking. "I'll leave you alone. Hope you get some rest. I love you, Casey."

I turn the light out and quietly slip out of the room, closing the door behind me. I stand outside the door for a minute or so, trying to gather my composure. I lean against the wall and take several deep breaths.

I wish I had brought those post-it notes with me.

It was a terrible idea to come here. I shouldn't have subjected Casey to this. Whatever is going on with her isn't going to be easily solved and bringing her to her in-laws house was possibly the worst thing I could do. I think I did it partly for me; because I miss my parents and really need their advice right now. My mother is great with advice. She and my father have been married over thirty years and she knows a thing or two about relationships. If anyone can help me decide what to do, it's my mother.

Mom knows the status of our relationship. I've spoken to her almost daily, filling her in on what's happening with Casey and my fears that maybe I'm somehow adding to Casey's depression.

When I go back downstairs, mom and dad are both seated on the couch and they stand when they see me enter the living room. Mom has extreme worry etched across her face. "We put the dog outside. Is Casey okay?"

I sigh and flop down on my parent's lavish couch, cradling my head in my hands. "No, she's not. She's not getting any better; in fact, she's getting worse. I don't know what to do to help her."

"Marriage is hard, Alex," dad tells me sympathetically. "It's hard to know what the right thing is. Sometimes by doing what you think is right, you inadvertently make things worse."

I let a tear escape and slide down my cheek. "It's like she isn't even Casey anymore," I say softly. "She's a completely different person. She hasn't smiled in over a week. My Casey was always smiling. She has the most beautiful smile you'd ever see. I look back at pictures of us when she was happy, and it breaks my heart. And she was always joking around and being cute. She'd always do something spontaneous. I absolutely loved being with her. She'd put me in a good mood on my worst day. A single text message from her could completely turn my day around. And now she's sad all the time. She sleeps alone down in the game room and she barely lets me touch her. I haven't been able to sleep in days. I can't sleep without my wife next to me."

Mom slides closer to me and places her hand on my knee. "Honey, I know this is tough. But are you sure depression is the underlying problem?"

"She has all the symptoms – sudden change in attitude, loss of interest in things she once loved, withdrawal from loved ones, sadness and increased sleep. I've read it can come on suddenly and sometimes nothing brings it on. You haven't been around her, mom. You haven't seen how bad it is." My eyes well up again. "My poor Casey…she walks around so sadly. I went to see her at work. She's usually so confident and happy at work, but when I visited her, she was angry and sad. She yelled at me to get out of her office. I even tried joking with her…she was having none of it. It's been over a week now and there's no improvement. She's stressed out, and stress brings on her migraines. I have to do something to help her. I can't watch her self-destruct like this."

"Did you make her an appointment with a therapist? I know you were reluctant to do so, but honey, sometimes it does work," dad says in support of me.

"She has an appointment on Tuesday. She said she'll go, but…"

"Then that's good. If she said she'll go, then she will," mom says, smiling at me and squeezing my knee again.

I return her smile with a sad, watery one of my own. "I just love her so much. And seeing her like this is destroying me. She wouldn't even let me lie in bed with her to help her with her migraine."

"We know you love her; we love her too. She's an amazing woman. And she loves you too, Alex. She's just going through a hard time," dad says, offering me his award-winning smile.

More tears make their way out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks. "I know, but…I wonder if it's somehow my fault? Maybe she doesn't like being married. Maybe I did something wrong. Or maybe she just doesn't like being married to _me. _I was afraid I wouldn't be good at this marriage thing. I've tried so hard. We coordinated our work schedules so we spend evenings together, we go out, we have fun. But maybe I did something wrong. Maybe I've smothered her or not giving her enough of her own time." My eyes water again. "Maybe this whole thing is because I'm not good enough for her."

"Alexandra, don't be silly," mom says sternly. She only calls me 'Alexandra' when she wants to make a point. "You have done nothing wrong. What's happening isn't your fault, and it isn't Casey's fault either. But you are in no way a bad wife, Alex. We have seen you two together. The two of you hold more love for each other than anyone I have ever seen. When you two were here for Thanksgiving, it was more than apparent that you're deeply in love and have a happy marriage. Don't ever doubt that. Casey's depression has nothing to do with your marriage."

"That's right, honey," dad adds, leaning forward. "Don't blame yourself – or Casey. You guys are just going through a rough patch. All marriages have them. But you'll weather the storm, because you two love each other."

I'm looking down at my lap, another tear sliding down my cheek. Mom covers my hand with hers and says, "Your father is right. And what you need to do is not give up on Casey. Keep letting her know you love her, but also give her space right now. Don't be too forceful. Let her come to you when she's ready to talk. And I honestly think she will benefit greatly from therapy. Maybe not at first…but she will."

"Oh, I won't ever give up on her. Ever. And I'll never stop loving her. I just wish she would let me in, even just a little. She had a horrible nightmare the other night and got up out of bed and ran to the basement. She wouldn't talk about it. And on the staircase she acted like she was frightened of something. I just want her to tell me what's going on. I know she needs space…I've been giving it to her…but it's so hard. If therapy doesn't work, I honestly don't know what to do. I can't stand seeing her this way."

"Is she going to work every day? Does she eat?" dad asks.

"She's going to work. I don't think she eats well; she still makes us breakfast but she usually doesn't eat. And she hasn't cooked dinner in a week. Whenever I mention her eating, she gets mad. So I'm just at a loss as to what to do all around."

I feel a sudden onslaught of tears threatening to take over me. I lean forward and put my face in my hands, letting myself cry. My entire body heaves from the fit of tears, and mom puts her hand on my back and rubs gently.

By the time I've finished crying, mom has handed me a box of tissues and I take one appreciatively. I dab my wet eyes and then say, "I just miss Casey so much. It's like I don't even have my wife anymore."

I notice mom and dad looking past me, uneasy expressions on their face. I immediately turn around – and see Casey standing in the archway to the living room.

She looks to be in the same shape as I am. Her eyes are red and puffy, and she looks eternally sad. I stand up immediately. I'm sure she heard more than I would have liked her to hear.

"Casey," I rush out quickly. "Why aren't you in bed? Is your migraine gone?"

She looks right into my eyes and says, "Can I talk to you?" Her voice is so small and meek that it nearly makes me cry again.

"Yeah. Of course," I tell her.

She looks at my parents warily and swallows before we make our way out into the hallway where we'll have some privacy. Casey is moving very slowly and I can tell from her expression that her migraine is still with her. So why is she out of bed?

She locks her sorrowful green eyes on me again and says, "I'm so sorry for pushing you. And for making you so sad. I never wanted you to be anything but happy. I am trying to get better, Alex. You have to believe me."

"I do believe you," I tell her, giving her a smile. I ache to just take her in my arms.

"I know you do. But I don't think you understand what I need right now. I need personal space. I need you to not make me feel guilty about wanting space. I need to sleep alone. I can't sleep with you right now; I just can't. And I need you to back off the affection. I can't handle it right now; it makes me feel too guilty."

I look down at the floor while Casey is talking, a lump forming in my throat. She's basically telling me she's cutting me out, and it hurts – _badly._

"I love you, Alex. I love you with all my heart. And I will go see Dr. Chambers for you. So you have to do this for me."

She's still going to go see Dr. Chambers…I at least feel a bit of relief about that. But the rest just breaks my heart. When I look up at her again and nod, I have tears in my eyes.

Casey nods and then swallows, as if she has something else to say that she doesn't want to say. And then finally, she comes out with it. "I want to go home. I feel really uncomfortable here. I know I agreed to come and you want to see your parents, but I need to leave. I'll call a taxi and – "

"No you won't," I interrupt. "I'll take you home. It was a mistake to come here, and I'm sorry. But don't take a taxi. I'll take you and Blaze home. We can go right now." Casey doesn't seem enthused about the idea. She's staring at the hallway carpet. "I promise I won't make you talk, Casey. Okay? Just let me take you home."

After several long moments she meets my eyes and then says, "Okay. Let's go."

* * *

**Casey's POV**

I hate what I am doing to Alex. It's actually making me sick. I was up all night throwing up last night, and I know it had nothing to do with the migraine I had earlier in the day and everything to do with how guilty I feel about breaking my wife's heart. I'm very fortunate there's a bathroom in the basement so Alex didn't have to hear me. I know it would only worry her more.

Yesterday Alex drove us all the way home from the Hamptons after only getting to visit with her parents for a couple hours. We barely talked the entire drive home. I had a migraine which made me feel bad enough, and then on top of that I let Alex drive me instead of taking a taxi. I knew Alex hadn't wanted to leave. Could I be anymore selfish?

As soon as we get home yesterday, I retreated to the basement. I didn't even take Blaze for a walk. All I wanted was to be alone. I cranked the volume up on the TV and played the loudest video game I own to try and drown out all my thoughts and sorrows; it hadn't worked. I stayed down there all evening and all night.

I'm completely guilt-stricken over pushing Alex on the staircase at her parents' house. I was caught in a terrible flashback, and when Alex had called my name and I looked at her, all I saw and heard was Jenna. I was absolutely terrified. I had pushed her into the wall in my haste to get up the stairs.

I pushed my _wife_. My Alex, whom I am very protective of. She could have been hurt. I could have caused her to fall down the stairs and she could have been seriously injured. Every time I think about what I did I'm repulsed by myself and my actions. How could I do that? How could I _ever _put my wife in danger? She's the thing I love most in this world – I know I'll never forgive myself. Flashback or not, there was excuse for what I did.

Alex had said it was okay, but I could see the surprise and worry lingering in her eyes long after the incident occurred. I could read it in her body language in the car on the way home; she didn't know what to say or do around me. And that hurt me deeply.

And for the first time since I've been dwelling in the basement, Alex didn't come down to tell me she loved me before going to bed. Even though I had told her I wanted to be alone and undisturbed, my heart still broke when she didn't come down. One of the only things holding me together are those three words she says to me daily – "I love you." When I don't hear them, I want to give up.

I stay in the basement for nearly twenty-four hours straight without going upstairs. I don't even let Blaze down with me. I want complete solitude. I want to be alone with my thoughts and try and figure out how I'm going to get past this huge hurdle in my life. I don't want Alex near me right now. I'm afraid I'll lash out at her again. She's better off without me right now.

It would be so much easier if I could tell Alex. She would understand the reason for my behavior and she would know what to do to help. I wouldn't be alone in this anymore.

But I know I can't tell her. Not just because of Jenna's threats, but also because I couldn't bear to have her look at me differently. She'd never see me as the same Casey again; I'd be violated and dirty forever in her eyes. She'd always see me as "victim". The stigma of being a victim will never go away as it is; I don't need my wife looking at me with a sympathetic look for the rest of my life.

Being alone isn't helping me and I know it. But I have no other alternatives. I can't stand to have Alex touch me; I feel unworthy of her touch. I can't lie next to her without thinking of Jenna. I can't stand seeing her sad blue eyes. So being alone is better. I don't have to see her suffer because of me.

But I also know I can't do this forever. We can't have a marriage where I spend all my time in the basement. I have to at least _try _and move on. I have to go out and experience life outside of work and outside of this house again. I have to try for Alex, even though I know nothing will ever be the same again. I owe it to Alex to at least try.

I'm still in the basement Sunday afternoon, but hunger pains are forcing me into the outside world. I know I have to get something to eat. It's been about two days since I've had anything substantial and I'm starting to feel light-headed and weak.

The first thing I notice when I open the basement door is that there are four post-it notes stuck to it. I immediately feel my heart swell. I love getting these little notes of love from Alex. I don't know if she realizes it or not, but they make me feel better.

I pull them down off the door. The first one says, "_I love you because – you never give up." _The others say, "_I love you because – you're perfect the way you are," "I love because – you're unique and quirky," _and _"I love you because – you still take my breath away and make me thankful for each day we're together." _That last one may be my favorite one yet, even though I know it isn't true. I take the notes back down stairs and stick them up on my corkboard with the others.

Blaze comes over to greet me as soon as I come up from the basement. He wags his tail and acts as if he hasn't seen me in days. I give him a pet and immediately check his food and water dish; the water dish is full but the food dish is empty, and I don't know whether Alex fed him or not.

"I fed him this morning," Alex says from behind me, her voice startling me and making me jump. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. I just saw you looking at his food bowl."

Alex stands in the entryway to the kitchen awkwardly, as if she's afraid to enter. She probably is. She probably thinks I'll run back downstairs if she makes a move. My heart drops to my feet. This isn't how marriage should be. My own wife shouldn't be uncomfortable around me.

What the hell have I done?

"I'm kind of hungry," I tell her, finding it difficult to speak. "Do you know if we have stuff for sandwiches?"

It's pathetic that I don't even know what's in the fridge. Alex and I always go grocery shopping twice a week and I always make sure we have sandwich supplies. But right now I couldn't tell you one single item in that fridge. I haven't been to the store in over a week, and I doubt Alex has either.

But to my surprise she nods and enters the kitchen, going right over to the fridge. "I bought honey turkey and Colby Jack cheese a couple days ago. I know that's your favorite. And we have lettuce and tomatoes too." She looks past the open door to where I'm standing. "Do you want me to make you a sandwich?"

I'm usually the sandwich maker. This is a strange role reversal. I don't _deserve _to have a sandwich made for me.

But somehow I've managed to nod and suddenly I'm seated at the kitchen table while Alex busily makes me a sandwich. I sit there awkwardly playing with the tablecloth, trying to come up with something to say to her. I never used to have to think about what to say to Alex – it always came so easily and naturally. Now we're like strangers.

My wife is another thing Jenna has taken away from me.

Before I know it, Alex is sitting a plate and a can of Mountain Dew in front of me. She even opens the can for me, as if I'm some sort of helpless child. And I sit right there and let her do it without saying a word.

Alex sits down across from me, and I finally get a good look at her. She's showered with her done nicely and dressed for the day in her favorite pair of khakis and a pink blouse. I'm sitting there was unkept hair, haven't showered for over twenty four hours, and I'm wearing my baggy old Rolling Stones t-shirt plaid pajama pants that I've been sleeping in for days. Alex should be repulsed.

But she isn't. She watches me take a tentative bite of the sandwich and then says cheerfully, "Hope it doesn't kill you. You know my lack of food skills. If you fall on the floor, I'll know to tell the paramedics that you ate something made by Alex Cabot."

She's trying to make me smile, to act as if nothing is wrong. And normally I'd play right along and rag on her terrible cooking skills. We'd go back and forth, and our banter session would end with one of us initiating a kiss.

Not this time. I barely crack a smile, and Alex sits there awkwardly as I eat my sandwich. A terrible silence has befallen us. A silence so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

And then Alex says, "Olivia and Renee are coming over later. We're going to go out." After a long hesitation and contemplation, she adds, "You're welcome to come if you want."

She knows I'm going to say no and slink back down to the basement where I'll stay until work tomorrow morning. She's _expecting _me to say no.

But I think about it; Alex does deserve to go out and try to get her mind off everything. We all used to have so much fun going out together. Alex has put up with me for over a week – she needs to go out with normal people and actually smile.

But I know she won't actually have fun. She'll be worried about me the entire time. And that's not fair to her. Besides, I want to _try _and get better, right? Would it be so bad to go out with everyone tonight? I know I won't be much fun, but maybe getting out of the house and being around friends will lift my spirits.

It's going to be difficult…but maybe I need to do this for Alex. So she can have a good time tonight and not be stuck worrying about me sulking in the basement.

So I find myself saying, "I would love to go."

If I had a video camera on me right now, I'd be able to capture the essence of shock right there in my kitchen. Alex looks so surprised that I fear she's going to fall out of her chair. She blinks several times, as if trying to decide whether I'm real or a dream. Then she says, "Really? You want to go?"

No. I don't _want _to go. But I will – for her.

I put something resembling a smile on my face as I say, "Yes. I need to get out." As soon as the words leave my mouth I regret them. What the hell am I thinking? I don't belong out with people…I'm going to spoil their fun. They don't need a bring-down like me.

But Alex is smiling like I haven't seen her smile in over a week. It's a real smile that stretches across her whole face and lights up her blue eyes. She's happy – and hopeful. "Oh Casey, I would love that!"

And then I know I can't take it back. Something as simple as agreeing to go out with Alex and our friends has made my wife happy. Maybe this can start to make up for me flipping out on her yesterday. It won't fix me pushing her, but…maybe it will help.

Alex looks so beautiful right now that it makes my heart ache. I can tell she wants to hug me, but she manages to resist and stays seated instead. But she's still smiling; until she sees the uneasy expression on my face. "Are you sure, honey?"

I swallow harshly and say, "Yes. I'm sure. What were you guys going to do?"

"Olivia and Renee want to go to that little bar on Seventh. I guess Renee used to go there a lot, but neither Olivia nor I have been there. I don't think you have either. But we can do something else if you want."

I shake my head. "No. The bar sounds good."

I won't be expected to talk much there. Bars are usually so noisy you can barely hear yourself think. And besides, Olivia usually does most of the talking when we go to bars; especially after a few beers.

A few beers…that actually sounds nice. Maybe it will help me relax.

Alex is still smiling as she gets up out of her chair. "Oh Casey, I am so happy you are going! We'll have a great time!" And then her eyes turn very serious and she adds, "And we won't talk about…you know. We'll just have a good time. Okay?"

I nod at her and watch her go back to the fridge and get the sandwich stuff back out. She's standing behind the island, making a sandwich for herself and chattering away excitedly. I can't believe how much me agreeing to go out with her tonight has completely changed her demeanor. She hasn't stopped smiling. In her eyes I can read pure happiness and hope.

I need to get my mind of Jenna and what happened to me just as much as Alex needs to get her mind off things. I know 'a good time' is a stretch, but maybe it won't be _that _bad.

* * *

The bar is pretty crowded for eight o'clock on a Sunday night, which surprises me. Sunday night isn't exactly primetime for going out, but it hasn't seemed to have stopped this crowd.

We're at _Joe's Hangout, _a modern little bar in Manhattan. Alex and I have never been here before; it's not exactly our scene. Alex prefers classier bars. But the atmosphere seems to fit Renee and Olivia, and I have to admit the hot wings are pretty good.

We've been here for about an hour. I don't think I've ever felt more uncomfortable in my entire life. It was bad enough when Renee and Olivia came over and made way too big a deal about me coming. They acted like it was Christmas and I gave them the best gift ever. It was meant to make me feel better, but it had done the opposite. Instead, all I could think about was that they knew something is wrong with me. I know Alex talks to Olivia and she's no doubt filled her in on my "depression". The looks Olivia was giving me before we left the house…it was like I was a delicate piece of China that was going to shatter if I took a misstep.

Which I guess is true, really.

Then I had to endure the car ride to our destination. We took Olivia's rather small car, and Alex and I had squeezed in the back. Alex was chattering away the whole time, but I could barely bring myself to look at her. All I was thinking about was how this "outing" was going to be a mistake. I got a sick feeling in my stomach as soon as we left the house, and halfway to the bar I thought I was going to have a full-on panic attack. I knew I wasn't ready to get back out there and be with people…as much as I wanted to try, for my wife.

Yet here I am, seated at a table in the back of _Joe's Hangout_ next to Alex and across from Olivia and Renee, a bowl of hot wings with only two eaten in front of me and a barely-touched beer. Usually I devour hot wings at a bar, and then order mozzarella sticks. And Alex always gets on my case about how terrible that food is for me and how I'm going to go home with a stomachache and be up all night. But I never listen; I eat it anyway. Except tonight. And tonight I think Alex would gladly let me eat _anything _without complaint.

Even though I've barely said three words since we've been here, I can tell me being out means a lot to Alex. She keeps looking at me lovingly and tucking my hair behind my ear. I know she wants to kiss me and put her hands all over my body as usual, but I'm glad she resists temptation. I don't think I could handle that right now.

The bar is filled with music and loud chatter, yet I feel like the only person in the building. I'm tuning out everyone and everything around me, barely listening to Renee and Olivia talk about their relationship and how they are finally moving in together. When I'm asked a question, I nod or shake my head or offer a one word answer. I feel awkward and out of place, and I just can't wait for this to be over.

I only get through it by reminding myself that I'm here for _Alex_, and she expects nothing of me except for me to try…which is what I'm doing.

Although this evening is very difficult, I feel I can handle it…until the worst thing that could possibly happen _does _happen.

Jenna walks into the bar. She's with the man she introduced as her boyfriend at the office, and the two of them are dressed in dark denim jeans and riding jackets. It looks like they just came off a motorcycle. That would figure; she's probably copying me on that.

Seeing her makes my heart start pounding and my blood run cold. That familiar hatred is flaring up inside me and I have to take a deep breath and hold it to keep from trembling.

She hasn't noticed me yet. She and her boyfriend are talking to two men at a billiard's table, and she touches one of their shoulders and laughs obnoxiously. Her laugh and body language is completely flirtatious, and all I can think of is how she's the world's biggest slut.

I watch her casually chatting away, acting as if she's innocent and no crime has been committed. She's acting as if she didn't destroy someone's life, as if she's just a typical woman at a bar looking for a good time. But I see right through her; I see her for what she is.

Then, suddenly, she looks up and right in my direction, catching and holding my gaze. And in that split second, I completely lose any small sense of myself that I had this evening. Just that quick; one look is all it takes. Suddenly I'm remembering the flashback on the staircase and the awful nightmare, and reminding myself that _this _woman owns me now; not my beautiful wife. I start to remind myself that I shouldn't be here with Alex, that I'm not good enough for her. That I should be with Jenna, letting her make me feel guilty again.

To my absolute horror, she starts to walk over to the table. I tear my eyes away from her and have to hug myself to stop my shakes.

Alex notices the sudden change in my demeanor and looks at me in concern. "Casey…are you cold, honey? You're shaking…"

I just shake my head and let go of myself, and go to work shredding the napkin in front of me. I watch as Olivia and Alex exchange worried glances, and then Alex looks up and notices Jenna coming our way. She lets out a small, low groan. "Oh, Jesus. Isn't that that Jenna chick from the Senator's office?" I nod again, still not looking up. I _can't _look up. I can't look into Jenna's eyes again. I'll completely break down this time. "She's seen us…here she comes…"

I can read the questions in Renee and Olivia's eyes, but they don't get to ask them. Within a few seconds, Jenna is standing in front of our table with her boyfriend, smiling ear-to-ear. "Hey, ladies!" she greets way too cheerfully.

Alex plasters on her best being-polite-because-I-have-to-be face and manages, "Good, evening Jenna."

I sit there like a log, staring at my napkin and shredding it even more until it's all shards on the table in front of me, then I still don't look up. My face is growing hot and I feel several sets of eyes on me.

"Hello, Casey," Jenna says in that artificial cheerful tone of hers. And even when she's being fake and cheerful, it still sounds condescending.

I force myself to look up at her. I have to now. If I act too strangely, Alex is going to become suspicious. I don't meet Jenna's eyes but I manage to utter out, "Hello," back to her.

Alex continues to be polite. "Jenna, these are our friends Olivia and Renee. Olivia, Renee, this is Jenna; she works with Casey at Senator Palmer's office."

I watch as Renee and Olivia smile and shake Jenna's hand, and she introduces her boyfriend Kyle. She's dripping with fakeness, and I can barely stomach it. How can she act so sweet and innocent right in front of me like this? Has she forgotten our conversation at Palmer's office? Or the fact that she rap – attacked me? Is she really so cold and psychotic that she could pretend to be perfectly normal in front of the person she victimized?

I know the answer to that question is yes. People like Jenna – who are cold and disturbed and unfeeling, and have a psychotic personality – are often skilled at mimicking genuine emotion. They have a way with words, a talent for manipulating people into believing what they want. Which is exactly what she will do if anyone ever finds out what she's done to me. People like her are dangerous, because they are capable of _anything_; they have no morals or limitations. They feed off the fear and sadness they inflict on those who are least-deserving.

And she chose me. Because of her jealously towards me regarding my life and my career, she decided I was worthy of becoming her victim. And now she won't stop. She'll taunt me at every chance she gets, knowing I can't fight back if I want to hold on to what little I have left.

And all I have left right now is Alex.

"Join us, please," Olivia suggests, having no idea that she just invited a sexual predator to sit at our table.

Jenna and Kyle sit, the smiling never leaving Jenna's face. "I've never seen you guys here before. Kyle and I come here every Saturday and Sunday evening. It's usually the same crowd. I can introduce you around if you'd like."

Alex starts to say something, but I beat her to it. "No. I wouldn't like."

I'm glaring at Jenna now, and Alex is shooting me her "be nice" look, but I completely ignore her. My heart rate is increasing and I can feel myself growing angrier by the minute. I am sitting across the table from the woman who took everything from me, who reduced me to nothing but an empty shell who can't even bear to have her wife touch her. I _can't _take this.

Jenna starts to engage Olivia and Renee in conversation as Kyle sits back awkwardly. I can feel Alex's eyes on me; she's obviously wondering why I'm suddenly so angry. I'm inadvertently squeezing the edge of the table and I only stop when Alex places her hand over mine. That one simple movement causes me stand up so quickly that my chair topples over and everyone at the table looks at me in shock.

"Casey?" Alex says in concern, standing as well. "Baby, what's wrong?" She puts her hand on my back but I brush her off harshly. "Casey…"

My attention is on Jenna and _only _Jenna. I ignore the confused looks I know I am receiving from Renee and Olivia and I actually lean onto the table to address Jenna. "Get the fuck away from our table," I tell her from between clenched teeth.

Jenna's expression never changes. She doesn't look surprised or shocked in the least. She still has that stupid grin on her face. And then she talks back. "Casey, I know we don't like each other, but maybe if we try – "

I slam my hand down on the table so hard that even Olivia jumps. I finally look at her, and she shoots Alex a very worried look as Alex tries to restrain me again. But I push her away once more. "Did you not hear what I said?! I said get the fuck away from us!" I'm nearly screaming now, and people from a few tables over are looking in our direction.

"Casey, sweetheart, sit down," Alex begs, pulling on my arm. "Calm down. Jenna is just being friendly."

She has no idea what she's saying. She has no fucking clue. She doesn't _know_.

Jenna's expression transforms into seriousness and she says, "Listen to that wife of yours, Casey. You know she knows best."

And that's it; that's all I can take. The way she emphasizes the word 'wife' and uses that superior tone on me…it pushes me completely over the edge.

I lunge at Jenna and get her by the collar. Everyone at the table gasps, and Olivia and Alex both make a desperate grab for me, but no one is going to stop me as I push Jenna a few feet away right into the wall. I smack her into it so hard she clunks her head against the wall, but it doesn't seem to faze her in the least. I'm squeezing her collar tightly, and my breath is coming out shallow and ragged. I'm so angry that my teeth are clenched. I want to beat her. I want to kick her and hit her and make her hurt and suffer, the way I am.

But I know it's impossible. No physical pain could even come close to what I'm feeling right now.

"I hate you," I spit out, shoving her into the wall harder and getting right into her face. "Stay away from my wife. I'm warning you."

Jenna looks like she's about to respond when her eyes dart suddenly to the right, and a pair of hands grab me from behind and pry me away from her. "Casey! Casey, stop this!" Alex's voice is a mixture of fear and worry, and once she has successfully pried me away from Jenna, she puts her arms around me to restrain me.

Kyle is at Jenna's side in an instant and she goes from being her cold condescending self to an innocent victim within seconds. She frowns and holds the back of her head, whispering to Kyle. That only makes me angrier; how can _she _play the victim right now? How is that fair?

"Do I need to call the police?" the bartender suddenly pipes up. I look up, and find half the bar suspending their activities to watch the near cat-fight in front of them.

"No," Alex says quickly, holding onto me tighter. She seems to know if she lets me go that I'll go after Jenna again. "No…I'll get her out of here."

I'm still filled with complete rage, but I take several deep breaths to calm myself and finally feel my blood pressure and heart rate returning to normal.

Olivia and Renee are standing next to Alex, watching me in deep concern. Olivia reaches out to touch me, but I shrink away from her. Alex sighs and meets Olivia's eyes. "Can you make sure Jenna is all right? I'm taking Casey outside." Olivia nods and looks once more at me with a sad expression before attending to Jenna.

Alex tightens her grip on me and starts to walk me towards the bar's exit. Her stride is so quick and purposeful that I nearly trip and fall. She's angry with me; it's radiating off her.

Alex says nothing to me until we are outside. Once we reach the parking lot, she lets go of me and spins me around so I'm facing her. "What the hell did you just do, Casey?" she demands.

"I'm sorry – " I try. "I didn't mean to…"

"It certainly looked like you meant to," she shoots back, her expression still hard and angry. She sighs and rests the tips of her fingers on her forehead. "I've never seen you like that, Casey. You have never been a violent or angry person. What is going on with you? You have to tell me."

I look down at the concrete pavement, too ashamed to meet my wife's eyes. She's not only angry; she's deeply hurt as well. My eyes are welling up with tears as I continue to stare at the parking lot.

"Casey! Answer me!"

I finally raise my head and look at my wife. She's waiting for some type of explanation, her blue eyes full of sadness and disappointment. All I can manage to say is, "I told you what's wrong."

"No; you haven't _told _me anything. Just that you're depressed. And I get it – you're depressed. I've been doing everything to help you. I've been giving you space like you asked, I've been writing you notes to try and cheer you up…but nothing seems to work. So tell me, Casey. Tell me what I can do to help you. Because what I just saw in there – that _isn't _my wife. You need to start talking to me. You need help, Casey. I thought I could do it on my own, but if you continue like this…" she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, not wanting to finish that thought. "I'm calling and seeing if Dr. Chambers can see you tomorrow instead of Tuesday. I don't think it can wait."

"She won't help me, Alex," I say softly.

"She can if you give her a chance. You can talk to her. You can confide in her. For some reason you feel you can't talk to me…but you can talk to Dr. Chambers. She knows how to help you, Casey. I just want you to get better. I want you back. Can't you see that?" her voice breaks as she's speaking.

I have to look away again, as a pang of guilt feels like it stabs me right in the heart. _Look what you're doing, Casey…you're literally destroying the person you love. All because of your weakness and selfishness. _

"I'm trying," is all I can say, my voice quivering to match Alex's. I can't believe how much this hurts.

"I know you are, but – " she trails off again. "I'm just calling Dr. Chambers tomorrow. Okay? Now I want you to go back inside and apologize to Jenna."

My eyes go wide in shock as I gape at Alex. "You want me to _what_?"

"I know you don't like her, but attacking her like that was completely uncalled for. I want you to apologize to her. Now."

I stand there staring at Alex, trying to decide whether or not she's serious. She wants me to apologize to the woman who caused all this turmoil? She wants me to go back in there and face her? I can't. If I go back in there, I may kill her. I'm already feeling the anger rising up again just at the suggestion that I go back in.

I shake my head wildly. "No. I'm not apologizing."

Alex sighs again. "Casey – do it."

Alex has never bossed me around like this; ever. She's been assertive, but never like this. She would never even think of telling me what to do. So why does she think she can get away with it now?

I lock my eyes on hers to convey seriousness and I say, "I'm not apologizing, Alex. You aren't my mother; you don't tell me what to do. You're my wife; not my 'owner'."

"Really? I'm your wife?" Alex echoes, and I can see her starting to break down. Everything I've put her through is catching up to her at this moment. I notice for the first time how exhausted and frustrated she is. "Then why don't you tell me what's going on?"

I turn around and throw my hands up in frustration. "Damn it, Alex! I _told you_!"

"No, you didn't. But you're telling Dr. Chambers. Tomorrow, you'll – "

I feel myself snap again. I hadn't wanted to go see a shrink in the first place, but I had agreed to go for Alex. But now that she's pushing me…I'm not doing it. It isn't fair. Can't she see what this doing to me?

"Fuck Dr. Chambers!" I practically scream. "She _can't _help me! I'm not going to see her! All she'll do is want to drug me up. I don't need drugs, Alex. They won't help. _She _can't help. _You _can't help."

As I take slow breathes to calm myself, I watch a tear roll down Alex's cheek and she shakes her head. She's staring at me as if she has no idea who I am anymore; and maybe she doesn't. "If you don't want and won't accept help, I don't know what else I can do for you Casey. I have no idea how I can fix any of this."

And then I stand there and watch helplessly as she turns and goes back inside the bar without another word.

**Poor Casey :( And Poor Alex. They are both at their breaking points. What do you think will happen from here? How long can Casey keep this up, and how long can Alex put up with it? Any predictions? Please review and let me know what you think.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay everyone - prepare yourself for this. It's a tearjerker :(  
**

**Alex's POV**

I'm shaking and near tears by the time I go back inside the bar. Casey's little display of violence not only has me worried, but also frightens me. I have never seen her like that. The look on her face…it was like she wanted to _kill _Jenna. That's not the sweet caring Casey I married.

Granted, I know she doesn't like Jenna; and frankly neither do I. The girl is annoying and meddlesome. But she did_ not _deserve to be attacked that way.

My wife needs help badly. I don't want to admit it, but I know it deep down inside. She can't keep going on like this. It's getting much worse instead of getting better. I love Casey so much…and I'm not doing enough to help her.

Even though Casey didn't hurt Jenna, this whole situation could be bad for her. If Jenna chooses to tell Senator Palmer what happened, or if this somehow gets out into the papers, it could cost Casey her career. I don't think she was thinking about that at all.

When I approach the table again, Jenna and Kyle are seated with Renee and Olivia. I feel a bit of relief that at least Jenna isn't flying off the handle and that the bartender didn't call the police. I plaster an apologetic look on my face as I walk over to the table.

All eyes are immediately on me. Renee and Olivia both look concerned, and Jenna and Kyle both look very angry. I direct my attention to Jenna and say, "I want to apologize for Casey. She has a lot going on right now, but that's no excuse. She shouldn't have attacked you that way. I'm sorry."

Jenna glares at me. Her friendly cheerful demeanor is gone. "That's right, she _shouldn't_ have. She was completely out of line."

"I agree. And I talked to her. I'm very sorry," I apologize again.

Jenna looks at the bottle of beer that's sitting on the table in front of her thoughtfully and then returns her attention to me. "What does she have going on?" she asks.

I find myself frowning. Jenna's facial expression and tone indicate that she's too curious about this, and I don't like that. What my wife has going on is _none _of her business. So I tell her so. "That's between me and my wife."

Jenna shrugs and takes a swig of her beer. "She's been acting…off at work. You two having marital problems?"

I want to push her against the wall myself. I know what Casey did to her was completely unfair, but she has no right prying into our personal lives. I can feel my face growing red, but before I can say anything, Olivia butts in. "Alex – where's Casey? Did you leave her outside?"

I tear my gaze away from Jenna long enough to address Olivia. "I left her outside to cool off, yes."

Olivia then says something to Renee and quickly gets up from the table. I look at her in confusion and she whispers to me, "I'm going to go talk to her – is that okay?" All I can do is nod my consent as Olivia hurries away. She'll be wasting her breath; Casey won't listen to her either, but let her try.

I return my attention to Jenna, who is sitting there staring at me with an odd expression. Almost like she's enjoying this whole thing. I actually feel a little creeped out by her presence.

I angrily tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and address Jenna once more, "I'm sorry, but what happens between my wife and I is no concern of yours at all. I'm very sorry for what happened here tonight and I'll make sure Casey apologizes to you. I'm glad you weren't hurt." Then I immediately put my eyes on Renee and say, "I'm sorry Renee, but I think Casey and I have to be going home. I'm sure you understand. Thanks for taking us out tonight. I'll send Olivia back in."

"Sure, Alex; I understand. I hope everything is okay with Casey," Renee tells me with a smile.

I give Renee a smile and notice that Jenna is whispering to Kyle, but I pay them no attention as I turn around and go back outside.

I hope I don't find Casey screaming at Olivia to leave her alone. I hope by some miracle I find the two of them talking calmly and Casey finally reaching a breakthrough.

But I find none of those. Instead I see Olivia heading my way as soon as I'm out the door, a worried expression on her face. "She's not here anywhere."

I scan the parking lot with my eyes, feeling panic start to rise up inside me. I shouldn't have walked away from her. "Liv, where is she?" I throw over my shoulder as I walk further out into the parking lot.

I left her in a state of anger and sorrow…I never should have done that. But she couldn't have gotten far. I'm wracked with guilt as I walk down the parking lot calling her name.

Suddenly Olivia is beside me, and she takes my arm. "Alex – she probably got a taxi home. Just call her."

I meet Olivia's gaze and see common sense in her eyes, something I'm lacking right now. I nod at her and with a shaking hand fish my phone from the back pocket of my pants. I speed dial Casey, and to my surprise she picks it up after the second ring.

"Casey! Where are you? I'm in the parking lot looking for you….I got scared when I couldn't find you."

It takes her a minute to answer. And when she does, her voice is flat and emotionless. "_I'm headed to the airport. I'm catching a flight to DC tonight_."

"But Casey, you're leaving in the morning. We need to – "

"_What we need is to be apart, Alex. Just leave me be."_

Then she disconnects the call. My wife – my Casey – hangs up on me. Nothing else; no 'I love you' attached, like she normally ends her phone conversations with me. Just those words – _we need to be apart, Alex._

I thought I was in pain before now, but that was nothing compared to the immense grief I'm feeling at this moment. I reacted the wrong way to what Casey did in the bar. I allowed myself to get _angry _with Casey. How could I do that? I promised I'd never give up on her! But what is she supposed to think? I told her I didn't know how to help her, turned my back on her, and left her standing in the parking lot alone with a broken heart.

I burst into tears, sinking right down to the hard concrete of the parking lot. I sit there covering my face with my hands, rocking myself back and forth and sobbing harder than I've sobbed in a long time. Olivia crouches down next to me and places her hand on my back, attempting to offer some comfort; but none exists for me right now.

"Alex…it's okay. What did Casey say?" she asks me gently, slowly prying my hands away from my face so she can look at me.

I look at Olivia with red puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. I'm nearly hiccupping, and I have to take several deep breaths before I'm able to speak again. "She said she's going to Washington tonight."

Olivia lets out her breath, as if this is relief, and actually smiles. "Okay. She has work in DC on Mondays anyway, right? So what's wrong? Doesn't she normally leave on Sunday nights?"

I shake my head. Olivia doesn't understand. "It's not the fact that she's going to Washington tonight that upsets me, Liv. It's – " I turn my head away from Olivia. I can feel a fresh set of tears pushing at my eyelids.

Olivia gives me an intense look, her eyes shining with tears. "Things are getting worse, huh?"

I meet her eyes and feel my own eyes fill with tears. "Yeah, they are. She actually scared me tonight." My eyes fill with tears again. "She said we should be apart, Olivia."

A silence falls over us, and Olivia looks away from me. "Alex, I think – " then she tops mid-sentence and backtracks. "I think I need to get with you tomorrow and we need to talk about Casey. When is she coming home?"

I successfully hold back the new set of tears and unsteadily climb to my feet. Olivia follows suit. "She usually comes home Monday evening. Usually around seven or eight."

Olivia nods. She has the intense look on her face, like she's hiding something from me. "Okay. I'll get together with you before then."

"About what?"

"I told you – Casey."

What could she have to say that we haven't already discussed? "Tomorrow is going to be busy for me, Liv. Mondays are hectic, and then when Casey comes home we have to have a talk. Can we talk later tonight? I can call you."

"This isn't a conversation for the phone," Olivia says quickly. "I'll come by your office. It's important, okay?"

Something about her tone and mannerisms tell me not to fight her on this. So I simply nod my consent, and Olivia smiles in relief. "Okay. I'd better get back to Renee. Are you sticking around? Do you want me to give you a ride home? Are you okay? Renee and I could stay over tonight if you want…"

"No. No, I'll be okay. I need to do some thinking." I force a smile so Olivia believes me. "And I'll take a taxi home; go ahead and go back to your girlfriend."

Olivia reluctantly goes back inside, after calling a taxi for me. I stand there in the parking lot waiting for the taxi, all the while thinking about Casey and for the first time in a long time, feeling unsure about my future.

* * *

I hate Mondays. They're always bad, but this one may go down as one of the worst in history.

Firstly, I was late getting to work. I forgot to set the alarm last night and as a result I overslept. Normally I'll wake up before the alarm, but I was operating on less than two hours sleep from the night before. It had been a _terrible _night. I had sent Casey text message after text message and tried to get her on Skype, all to no avail. She was flat-out ignoring me, and this hurts _badly. _I spent most of the night reading through her book of letters again and crying into my pillow. I had no idea that just the absence of someone could break your heart so much.

It's been hard to concentrate all day. I'm constantly thinking about Casey, and worrying about her. I'm worried that she's given herself another migraine and I'm not there to help her through it. I'm worried that she cried herself to sleep in the same way I did last night and I wasn't there to dry her tears and whisper into her ear that I love her.

I somehow manage to drag myself through the morning and work through my lunch, and at about one-fifteen, my secretary buzzes me to let me know that Olivia is at the office to see me. I immediately tell her to let Olivia in

Olivia walks into my office in complete detective mode. She's wearing her leather jacket and has her badge on her belt. And even her gait is strictly business. She obviously came over from the precinct, probably on her lunch.

I give her a smile and ask her to take a seat in front of my desk. My stomach is in knots; I still don't know what she's going to say to me. I know it's about Casey, but honestly, I have no idea what it is she has to say.

Fortunately she doesn't make me wait long. "Alex, I want to talk to you about Casey. About what I think is going on."

I take a deep breath and hold it, leaning onto my desk. "Okay…but I already know what's going on. She's depressed, and I'm trying to get her help."

Olivia is looking at me with a mixture of sadness and sympathy. I can tell there's something she really wants to say, but can't find the right words just yet. After a few minutes, she says, "Did she say she is depressed?"

"Yes. And I researched it; she does have all the symptoms. She has a therapy appointment for tomorrow, but she told me last night outside the bar that she's not going."

Olivia says and shifts around in her chair. "Alex….I don't think her being depressed is the problem. I don't disagree she _is _depressed, but I think there's an underlying reason for it."

"I think so too. I've been trying to get her to open up to me, but she just won't. She constantly shuts me out and says the same thing every time – that she wants to be alone, that she needs space." I can't help but tear up again. "And I think – I think I caused her depression, Liv. I don't know how, but I think I did something wrong and she doesn't want to tell me…

"You didn't do anything wrong, Alex. Casey loves you," Olivia reassures me, her tone sure and soft. "And she really needs you right now."

I sigh and lean onto my desk again. "You think I don't know that, Liv? You think I wouldn't give anything in the world for her to be better? I want to help her. I want my Casey back. But I don't know _how _to help her. I'm writing her little notes and sticking them on the basement door. She's keeping them. She has a corkboard in the basement that she's putting them on, along with pictures of us together."

Olivia smiles at that. "That's good, Alex. That's a good sign. I'm sure that's helping her."

"But it _isn't_, Liv. She still isn't talking to me. She barely even _looks _at me. We have no life together anymore." There it goes again – more tears. "We used to have breakfast together, get ready for work together, Casey would play with her ferret, and we'd text each other throughout the day. Casey would make dinner for us or we'd go out to eat, then we'd take Blaze for a walk and then cuddle up to watch a movie. This was our daily routine. Weekends we'd do fun things. Now we don't do any of that. Casey still makes breakfast sometimes, but we don't eat together. We don't share any cute banter in the morning while getting ready for work. My wife doesn't wake me up in her adorable manner anymore. I have to sleep alone, clutching her pillow to my body. She doesn't even take care of her animals – I've had to feed the ferret nearly all week. And I've been walking Blaze. It's like – like she's given up on everything. And I _hate_ it, Liv. It breaks my heart. I thought therapy might help, but now she says she won't go, and – I just don't know what to do."

Olivia stares hard at me for several seconds, and then comes out with, "Alex…I think Casey was raped."

I'm so shocked by Olivia's words that I actually fall back in my chair. I stare at her with my mouth gaping open, and I can only form one word. "_What_?"

Olivia sighs. She was obviously expecting this response from me. "I think she was raped, Alex."

I shake my head, trying to clear the ridiculousness of Olivia's words away. "Why in the world would you think that?" My voice comes out shriller than I had intended for it to.

"I have experience with rape victims; you know that. Everything you've told me about Casey's behavior combined with what I witnessed last night – it fits the profile. She's so awkward and unsure about herself in front of everyone, including you. She's deeply depressed. She's not responding to affection, she doesn't want to share a bed with you. She can't seem to tell you that she loves you. She's seeking out seclusion. She has nightmares. And that incident that you described on the staircase at your parents' house – that may have been a flashback, Alex. And she's acting out violently. I believe she was raped."

I feel like someone has reached into my chest and is squeezing my heart in a vice grip. I open my mouth to speak, but no words tumble out. This _cannot _be even remotely true! No one would attack my Casey like that…no one. Just the very thought of it has me in full-blown panic.

Olivia smiles sympathetically at me. "I know it's horrible to think about, Alex, but…I think that's what happened. She's acting like a rape victim."

_No. No, no, no, no. Casey is __**not **__a rape victim! Don't you dare call her that! _My mind screams at me. I feel myself growing angry, to combat the awful sick feeling I have in the pit of my stomach. The words that actually come out of my mouth are, "It isn't true, Liv. Casey wouldn't keep something like that from me! We have no secrets – she would have told me right away!"

I get another sympathetic smile from Olivia. "You know she wouldn't have, Alex. You know rape victims almost as much as I do. They can't talk about what happened to the person they love the most. They feel unworthy of their love, and so they shut themselves off from them completely. They feel like they have done something wrong; like they have disappointed the person they love. And that's why they desire to be alone and start to act out; because it becomes too much for them to bear. Sometimes they don't remember what happened – or remember very little – and when the memories start to come back, it can seem like it's happening all over again. I know you like to think that Casey would have told you…but you know she wouldn't. She couldn't tell you this."

My breath hitches in my throat and my heart rate picks up considerably. That fits Casey's behavior…and now that I really think about it, the sudden change in her started the last time she came home from Washington. I feel all the blood drain from my face at that thought, and I feel like I'm actually going to pass out. Olivia _has_ to be wrong…that can't have happened to my sweet beautiful Casey.

"I hope I'm wrong, Alex, but if I'm not, she needs help. This won't get better until she talks to someone. And I doubt she's seen a doctor. She could have a disease, or be pregnant. She needs – "

I rise from my seat and hold my hand up to Olivia. "Stop!" This is _Casey_ she is talking about, not one of her SVU victims! It's _my wife_. "You're wrong, Liv. You have to be." My voice betrays me and I start to shake.

Olivia stands as well, offering me another small reassuring smile. "I know it's hard to accept, Alex. But Casey needs your help. If she doesn't talk to someone, she'll continue to self-destruct. I've seen what it's done to people. It's led to suicide, extreme violence…even hospitalization in a mental facility. You have to encourage her to talk to someone before any of that happens. There are lots of rape counselors. I can even – "

"Please stop," I beg again, closing my eyes once more as a tear slides down my cheek. "You're talking about Casey. Please…just stop."

She swallows. "I know, Alex. I know it's hard. When Casey comes home tonight, you have to make her listen to you. You need to get her help."

This is not right. _None _of it. It's not even a possibility. Rape happens to other people; people whose cases I used to prosecute, people on the news. It _does not _happen to the person you love most in this world.

Olivia suddenly digs around in her purse. "Why don't I give you the number of some of the rape counselors we recommend to victims?" I watch dumbly as she pulls out a handful of business cards and hands them to me. When I don't take them from her, she places them on my desk. "All these people are good. They'll help her."

I stare at the array of cards on my desk. Printed words jump out at me – _"Crisis counseling," "Rape counseling," "You are not alone," "We can help," _The words all swirl into one as I look at them, and I'm so upset and angry that in one motion I sweep the cards off my desk, causing them and a stack of papers to fall to the floor like a waterfall.

Olivia looks at the mess on the floor, then back up at me in surprise. She can tell I'm way beyond upset now. "Alex – "

"No!" I practically scream at her. My heart is pounding in my chest. "I don't need you to come in here with your theories or to give me some stupid business cards! Casey is _my _wife, and I know her! I'd know if something as awful as rape had happened to her…how dare you think I would be so oblivious!"

Olivia shakes her head. "No, Alex, it's not being oblivious. It's loving the person, and believing nothing like that could ever happen to them." She's keeping her voice calm and low, but it's doing nothing to make me feel better.

I'm a complete emotional wreck right now. I'm angry, sad, worried, panicked…all at once. I have absolutely no idea what I'm feeling more. I refuse to believe Olivia's words, but at the same time, it's all I can think about.

"I know you're upset. Why don't you leave early, and go do something special for Casey?" she suggests.

I look at her, tears running down my cheek, and attempt my best glare. "I just want you to leave, Olivia. Please."

She hesitates a moment, and the nods her head. She knows better than to argue with me, and I think she can sense that I need to be alone with my thoughts. She grabs her purse from off my desk and pauses just long enough to say, "If you need to talk, I'm here. Good luck with Casey. And – I really hope I'm wrong, okay?"

I give no reaction as she walks out my door and closes it behind her. I immediately go to the door and lock it, and then pick up my office phone and hit my secretary's line. As soon as she picks up, I rush out, "Hold all my calls and visitors for the next hour or so. I can't be disturbed. Got it?" I hang up before she even has a chance to answer me.

Then I sit back down at my desk, taking the framed wedding photo of me and Casey in my hand, and I break down in tears.

* * *

**Casey's POV**

It's taken me over two hours to type less than a page. I'm sitting here in front of my laptop with the document open, just staring at it as if my mind is going to will it to make more sense than it does. But I possess no superhuman powers, so the cursor on the screen just continues to blink at me.

I've been at work for over two hours and I've spoken to no one. I walked right through the front office without greeting any of my colleagues, and came straight back here to the office and locked myself in. I could hear whispers as I walked by. Jenna is here today – I'm sure she's told everyone about my little incident last night at the bar.

But I don't care – it doesn't matter anymore. Today is my last day in the office. As soon as I make these words into something coherent, I'll print out the document and deliver my resignation personally to Senator Palmer.

I can't take this anymore. I can't _do _this anymore. Senator Palmer has lost all respect for me. I get no enjoyment from the job anymore. And Jenna makes my existence here unbearable. They're all better off without me, anyway. No one will miss me – I'm sure they can find someone better than me in a day.

I keep seeing Alex's face in my mind. That awful look she had in her eyes last night when she said she didn't know how to help me. Every time I think about the way she walked away from me, it makes me cry. Though I can hardly blame her – I've pushed her away. Her promises of unconditional love aren't strong enough to get through this, and I know it. She doesn't deserve what I'm putting her through. She deserves someone who will make her happy…the way that I used to.

I'm not that person anymore. I'll never be her again. So I'm going to spare Alex a miserable life with me.

It takes me nearly another hour to compose the rest of my resignation letter. I keep getting interrupted by sporadic tears and assaulted with happy random memories of Alex. When I finally finish, I print the document and pack up what little belongings I have in the office and put them in my laptop case.

With a deep breath to calm my nerves, I open the office door. To my relief, there's no one out in the hall. No prying eyes or silent questions. I'm able to make the trek to Senator Palmer's private office without being stopped or spotted by any of my colleagues. I hope to leave the letter on his desk and just slip out…but when I see the office door is closed, I know the Senator is in there. I can hear him talking; most likely on the phone.

I don't knock – I just open the door and go right in. Senator Palmer looks up from his desk, his office phone cradled against his shoulder, looking at me in shock. Before he has a chance to inquire as to why I barged in, I set the paper down on his desk and in one breath I say, "Senator – my resignation. I'll be gone before the end of the day."

I don't wait to see his reaction. I simply turn around and stride quickly out of his office with bated breath, just waiting for the inevitable sound of footsteps behind me. And then I hear them – footsteps, and then Senator Palmer's voice – "Casey! Wait!"

I turn around and look at him. He's holding my resignation in his hand, and looking at me with a confused expression. "Your resignation? Why?"

Tears are stinging my eyes, but I won't let them fall. I blink them back and say, in a strong voice, "I can't do this anymore. I need to move on. I'm at a different place in my life now."

He looks down at the paper and then back to me, his expression never changing. "What's going on? Have you talked to your wife about this?"

The mention of my wife almost breaks me. I shake my head and take a few steps back. "My wife doesn't love me anymore," I tell him blankly, my voice giving way to how I'm really feeling inside. I turn away quickly so he won't see my tears, and I finish my long walk to the front of the office.

Everyone is busily working and no one even gives me a glance as I head out the office for the last time. Once I'm out the door, I don't even turn around. I head straight for the elevator and once I'm on it and the doors have slid closed, I finally let myself react to what I've just done. I sigh and lean against the elevator wall, trying to steady myself and keep calm.

I never used to be a quitter. I was stubborn, assertive, and I'd never give up. But all that is gone now. All that's left is _this _– a pathetic excuse for a human who is about to hurt the person she loves most in this world in the worst way possible.

As I'm walking through the parking garage, a voice stops me. A female voice, and when I turn around, I discover the source of it – Jenna. She's jogging towards me, and as she gets closer, I actually see a gloating smile on her face.

She stops a few feet in front of me, that smirk burning into my mind. "Giving up, Casey?" she taunts me. "Can't take the heat?"

I want to punch her. I want to hurt her, to destroy her. I clench my hands into fists, and take several deep breaths to calm myself. I know I can't lose my cool again. Especially not in front of the security cameras of the parking garage.

I've let my silence speak for me, and Jenna says, "Guess I win, Casey. I always do. And remember our little arrangement – not a word about our night together."

Our arrangement makes no difference anymore. She can't hurt me and Alex, because there can't _be _a me and Alex anymore. She can only hurt Alex; ruin her reputation and destroy her career. And I won't let that happen. I owe Alex more than that.

I turn away from Jenna, fully prepared to get in my rental car and just drive away from her. But she follows me. "That beautiful wife of yours is sure going to be mad you quit your job. Bet she doesn't know you married a quitter. Maybe she'll look elsewhere for companionship now. Maybe I'll offer to be her shoulder to cry on about what a loser her wife is."

Her words anger me right to the core, and I turn around, my eyes flashing. It takes every ounce of willpower I can muster not to hit her, but I somehow manage. I don't lay a hand on her. I get right in her face and I say – in the sternest voice possible – "If you _ever _go near Alex, I will fucking kill you. Do you understand? I will track you down and kill you."

For the first time in all of our encounters, Jenna's smirk disappears from her face. I'm staring her down, and I think she can read the sincerity of my words in my eyes. I'm not joking in the least bit – and I think she knows it.

She may have beat me, but I'll be damned if I let her do anything to Alex.

I turn away from her and continue on to my rental car. I get in the driver's side and angrily slam the door closed, and I sit there in silence for twenty minutes. What I have to do next is not going to be easy and I'm not looking forward to doing it, but it has to be done.

I take the airline ticket out of my jacket to double-check the flight time. It's in two hours. That should give me enough time to get home and pack my bags before Alex gets out of work. I wrote her a note, and I'll leave it on the fridge for her where I know she'll find it.

I start to cry. Packing my bags and leaving my home and the love of my life is going to be the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I thought I had a bright future with Alex; but I let us both down. I ruined both of our lives, and I'm going to disappear quietly before I do more damage to Alex.

I remember the plastic bag in my purse, and I take it. I hold it in my hand just staring at it, knowing its purpose but not wanting to fulfill it. Once I do this, there is no turning back. It will make it official.

I hold my breath and slip off my ring. It's hard to slide off; it's meant to be there for eternity, so naturally it doesn't want to come off. But I force it. Screw-ups like me need an escape clause. Once the ring is off, I stare at my naked finger, my heart shattering. There's an indention in my skin where the ring had been, and I run my thumb over it. I start to cry again as I put the ring in the plastic bag and put it back in my purse with the letter.

Then I take a deep breath and start the car, about to set out on the loneliest journey of my life.

**What do you think? Sad? Dramatic? What will happen now? Will Alex come to believe Olivia? Will she confront Casey, and will Casey tell her the truth? Or will Casey leave her? Please review and let me know what you thought of the chapter!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Wow. I can see from the reviews on the last chapter that Casey really made you all feel for her emotionally. I hope this chapter does the same - enjoy.**

My flight was just long enough for me to put a rough outline of what I am going to do together. I plan on going home and packing only what I need, leaving the letter and the ring, and collecting my dog and ferret and heading to our cabin for a couple of days.

Leaving Alex is going to be the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I love her deeply; in a way I know I'll never love anyone else. And that's why I have to leave her. I can't continue to break her heart every day. And the violence I've been feeling inside of me terrifies me. I can't risk having it overtake me and unintentionally hurting Alex.

My finger looks wrong without my wedding ring. I thought I'd never take it off. I was supposed to be buried with it – that's how marriage is supposed to be. And marriage is also supposed to be honesty and love, as we promised to each other in our vows on our wedding day. I can't give Alex honesty anymore. I can't tell her the shame I'm hiding away. I can't keep up my end of the bargain anymore.

Alex is beautiful and the kindest person in the world – I know without a doubt that she will someday find someone better than me.

As I pull into our driveway, my heart is clenched so tightly I fear all the blood is being drained from it. All I can do is look up at the house – me and Alex's home. The home we picked out together. The home where we planned on living the rest of our lives. We envisioned hot summer days in and around the pool, and cold winter nights strolling hand-in-hand through the snow with our dog. We pictured elaborate Christmas light displays around our windows and in our yard. We pictured ourselves cuddled up on the couch staring at our Christmas tree, on our first Christmas in our new home.

But none of this can be now. I've ruined for us. I've torn apart our lives, and there is no going back to what we used to have.

Tears are freely rolling down my cheeks as I park the car in the driveway. I _never _park in the driveway – I always pull into our three-car garage to avoid leaving my precious jeep out in the elements. But I'm not staying, so parking in the garage would make little sense right now.

I sit in my car for several seconds, trying to fathom that this is the last time I'm going to be looking at our beautiful house. I'll never walk up the driveway holding Alex's hand and walking Blaze again. I'll never sit out on the deck or balcony with Alex, and I'll never have a chance to use that pool.

I wonder if Alex will sell the house? Will holding onto it create too many memories for her? Will she not be able to handle staying in a house that we used to share?

I'm the worst person in the world for doing this to my Alex. I love her so much…I hope she realizes I am doing this for her.

I take a deep breath and get out of the car, clutching the plastic bag containing the ring and the envelope with my goodbye letter inside. More hot tears are streaming down my cheeks as I walk towards the front door, imaging the heartbroken look of sorrow Alex will have on her beautiful face when she finds this letter.

My tears are blurring my vision, but I just wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket and use my key to get in the front door. As soon as I come in from the porch, I can hear noise coming from the kitchen.

I immediately stiffen. Blaze hasn't come to greet me yet. That can only mean someone is here keeping him occupied. And only one person would be inside our locked house – Alex.

I didn't see her car because she probably parked in the garage. Right about now I'm kicking myself for not checking it. But she's supposed to be at work – what is she doing here?

I stand frozen in place, terrified out of my mind. Alex is not supposed to be here…this isn't how this was supposed to have gone. I can't face her. I can't watch her heart break.

I feel all the blood drain from my face and I turn around quickly, fully prepared to run for the door and back out to my jeep before she knows I'm here. I'm such a coward – I'm running from my wife. But before I can move one step, Blaze barks and then comes trotting into the living room, his tail wagging happily.

My cover is blown. Alex is right behind him. She stops as soon as she sees me, a look of pure shock grazing her face. I study her carefully – she's wearing one of her favorite suits, which means she went to work today. But I can catch a faint tint of red to her eyes, as if she's been crying.

We stare at each other, as if we're seeing one another for the first time, until Alex breaks the silence. She forces a smile and says, "Baby, I'm so happy you're home! Did you get out of work early?"

My heart clenches again. Hearing her call me 'baby' nearly breaks me. She always says it with such love and admiration, and I used to love to hear it. Now I never want to hear her call me that again.

"Yeah, early day today," I lie, walking right past Alex and going into the kitchen. I hope she doesn't see what I'm carrying. My heart is beating a million miles per hour.

Alex follows me into the kitchen and stops me by the fridge. "I had an early day too. I had to come home and get a few things ready. I have a surprise for you – I'm taking you somewhere special tonight. And then we need to have a serious talk."

I'm really torn right now. I want to put the envelope and bag on the magnetic clip on the fridge and just go about my business of packing. But Alex being here complicates things. It was going to be hard enough without her here, but now…now my entire body is actually shaking in shame and nervousness, and I pray she doesn't notice.

If I clip the envelope and bag to the fridge, Alex will put them down right away. I'll be forced to see the awful heartbreaking look on her face as she reads the much-too-short and blunt letter and realizes I have returned my wedding ring. I can't witness it. I have to be far away when that happens.

So I pretend like I had intended to get a can of my Mountain Dew out of the fridge and I back away awkwardly. I'm still holding the envelope and bag, and suddenly Alex's eyes go to them and she asks, "What's that?"

I clutch them tighter and clear my throat, making my way across the kitchen. "Just something for work," I lie, barely able to get the words out.

She seems to buy it. She clears her throat too and says, "Well, why don't you go get ready. We don't have to wait until tonight to go – I just wasn't expecting you this early. And then we have to talk about something. Okay?"

This is beyond brutal. Alex is using her loving tone, and talking as if we're the happiest married couple on earth. She has no idea that I'm about to walk out of her life forever.

I know I have to do this like a band-aid – one motion, right off. No since prolonging it, or beating around the bush. I have to be honest and do it _now _or I'll never be able to.

I can't force myself to look at Alex. I don't want to see her eyes when I say the heartbreaking words that are inside of me. I walk out of the kitchen and start down the hall towards our bedroom, and just as expected, Alex follows me.

I don't speak until we've reached the bedroom. I can tell Alex wants to say something, but I beat her to it. I enter the room and then I say, "Alex…I'm leaving."

She stops dead in her tracks right inside the bedroom door and asks, "What? What do you you're leaving?"

I am literally dying inside, and all I can do is push my switch to 'Go'. I can't let Alex's words or tears weaken me. I have to try and push her away. I have to make her not love me so this hurts less for her. I have to be cruel in order to be kind.

I close my eyes and when I open them again I finally have the courage to turn around and face Alex. Her blue eyes are shining with tears as she looks at me. I can see how much I am already hurting her, but I can't stop. Once I'm gone things will get better for her, and I know it.

"I'm leaving because I can't be here anymore. I can't do _this _anymore." I start to get choked up, but I push on. "I've fallen out of love with you, Alex. I don't love you anymore."

Those were the hardest words I've ever had to speak, because they're not true in the least. I still love Alex more than anything in the world. Saying those words has taken all my human feelings away from me. I hurt the person I love the most – I'm no longer human. I'm an animal.

Alex starts to cry and I tear my eyes away from her and move to the closet to get my suitcase that I usually pack for DC. My duffel back is in the hallway closet, but I don't think I need it. I'm not taking very much. I drop the suitcase on the bed and start filling it with some of my clothes and jewelry.

Alex follows me to the dresser as I search for my watch and iPod. "Casey…what do you mean you don't love me? Casey, that can't be true!" Her voice is laced with emotion and she reaches out to take my arm, but I shake her off me. "Casey – "

This is _so hard. _I spin around and face her. "Exactly what I said, Alex. I don't love you anymore."

She flinches at my words, but doesn't stop trying to stop me. "Casey, that's the depression talking, not you. We can fix this. I love you so much, baby…don't do this. Please. Let me help you."

Help me? She can't help me. No one can. I have my back to her now and she touches my back, and that causes me to turn back around to face her. My movement is so quick and deliberate that she actually jumps and takes a few steps away from me.

And that confirms it right there – Alex is afraid of me. My attack on Jenna and the incident on the staircase at her parent's house has made her frightened of me. I know now that I'm making the right choice by slipping out of her life.

I nearly start to cry as I see my wife standing there with streaming down her cheeks and worry in her eyes. I'm holding my iPod in my right hand, squeezing it so tightly my hand actually hurts. "There is no help for me, Alex," I tell her in a calm voice, and I move to the bed to toss my iPod inside my suitcase. My laptop is already in the jeep, as I had taken it to DC with me. All I need now are a few more clothes and a couple more personal effects, and I'm gone.

I move to back to the closet, but Alex actually steps right in front of me, stopping me. "Casey," she says in a stern voice. "Did something happen to you? Did someone…" she seems to struggle for words. "Did someone…hurt you in some way? Did someone do something to you that they shouldn't have?"

I feel all the color drain from my face. She wants to ask me if I were raped – I can feel it. She's dancing around the subject. But how does she know? Have I somehow made it obvious?

Alex notices my hesitation and says, "Casey, baby, you can tell me. I know you may feel ashamed, but it's me. You can tell me _anything_. You know I'll still love you. I'll do everything to help you. Now tell me – what happened?"

I'm freely crying now. I look into Alex's eyes and see the love and compassion reflecting back at me and for a moment my resolve weakens. I want nothing more than to confess what has happened to me, let Alex take me in her arms, and give up this fight.

But I can't. Alex doesn't deserve the burden of someone damaged like me dragging her down. I'm broken, and I don't think I'll ever be able to be fixed. This is my life now – this is what Janna has left for me.

"Nothing happened to me," I lie to Alex, having to look away from her again. I sidestep to the closet and pull it open once more. "I told you why I'm leaving."

"And I don't believe it," Alex fires back. "I know something happened. _Tell me_, Casey."

I finally snap. My emotions are building up, and I'm to my breaking point. I turn around angrily and let loose on Alex. "Back off, Alex! Leave me the fuck alone! I said I don't love you anymore! Do you not understand that? What's difficult about it? Don't try to use that lovey-dovey tone on me. Nothing happened to me, Alex. I'm depressed, and I don't love my wife anymore. That's what it is. So just back off."

That is the worst, most despicable sentence I have ever passed. Every word was a lie, and my heart literally shattered upon completion of it. I can hardly believe those words came out of my mouth. Never in my life did I ever think I'd be intentionally hurting the love of my life in this horrible, inconsiderate way.

I grab a few more shirts from the closet, pretending as if nothing is wrong. Pretending as if I'm tearing my wife's heart out. I actually have to hold my breath to keep from completely breaking down and I'm trembling again.

Alex is full-out crying now. I can hear the pain and sorrow in every word she says. "Casey," she begs again. "Please don't leave. Whatever is wrong, we can work it out. I love you. I'm not letting you go."

I respond by slamming my suitcase closed and latching it shut. "You don't have a choice – I'm going." I stand up with the suitcase and put on the bravest face I can. "I'm taking Harrison and Blaze. You can keep or sell my scooter and motorcycle – I don't really care."

I leave the bedroom with my wife trailing me, crying and trying to get me to reconsider my awful choice. I put the suitcase down in the living room and put Harrison into his pet carrier, and then I break down his cage. Alex is still talking to me as I carry the folded down cage to my jeep. I open the back of my jeep to put it in, and that's when Alex grabs my wrist.

"This is serious, Casey. _Don't _do this." She meets my eyes, pain and suffering evident in hers. "Please. We'll go see Dr. Chambers. I'll take you there. Or we can find someone for you to go to if you want. Please just let me help you, Casey. I know you still love just as much as I love you."

Why is she making this so damn difficult? Doesn't she get that I'm doing this for _her_? Does she think this is easy for me?

I slam the back of my jeep closed and go back in the house to get the suitcase and Harrison's pet carrier. Every step I take feels like a knife plunging repeatedly into my heart. I don't want to leave this place – this is my home.

As soon as I pick up the suitcase and pet carrier, I know this is it. This is so final – there is no turning back now. I'm heartbroken and sick inside, but I know I have to make that walk back out to my jeep and drive away from here forever. With a shaking voice I call Blaze to me, and then I start towards the door.

But Alex steps in front of the door to stop me. Tears are streaming down her cheeks and she's shaking her head. "No. Casey – no," she says sternly. "I am _not _letting you leave."

"You can't stop me, Alex," I tell her, keeping my voice and serious. "I'm leaving you – now get out of the way."

She doesn't move. I watch as tears continue to cascade down her cheeks. "If someone didn't hurt you, Casey, then what happened? Is it me? Did I do something?"

Right now I'm willing to say anything to get her to move so I can get this over with. I'm already breaking her heart – I might as well go all the way.

"Yes. It_ is _you, Alex!" I scream at her. "It's you and the way you always nag me and constantly want to know 'what's wrong'! It's the way you treat me like I'm a five year old child! It's the job and this house and everything you expect of me!" The look on her face is utter confusion, but I don't stop my rant. "Marriage isn't what I expected or wanted. I made a mistake – I'm sorry."

My voice catches in my throat on those last words and I set the carrier down look enough to remove the envelope and plastic bag from the back pocket of my jeans. I practically throw them at all Alex and shout, "Here – now get out of my way."

Alex steps aside, and I see her bend down to pick up the bag. When she sees what's inside, she bursts into a fresh set of tears. I freely let my tears out too; my back is to her so she can't see how much this is costing me.

I set down the suitcase and open the back of my jeep again, bawling my eyes out. I hurt _so badly. _I load the suitcase and pet carrier inside, and then I make Blaze get in the backseat.

Before I get in the driver's side door, I hear Alex call, "Casey – I will always love you."

I slam my car door so she can't hear the assault of tears I'm under. Then I start my jeep back up, and pull out of the driveway, leaving Alex and my married life behind forever.

* * *

**Alex's POV**

Casey's been gone for two days. I've never hurt this much in my life. I didn't think it was possible to hurt this much. Even when Olivia left me I didn't hurt this bad. But Casey being gone and me not knowing where she is or what happened to her is causing an unbearable ache in my heart.

I tried calling her yesterday, and I've texted several times. I just want her to tell me where she is…but she won't. She ignores me altogether. I've considered going to the Senator's office to see her…but I know she'd just ask me to leave. It's pretty clear she doesn't want me anymore.

I know something happened to her – Olivia is right. It may not have been rape, but something definitely happened. Something made her fall out of love with me. At first I thought she was using not loving me as an excuse, but I say the truth in her eyes – she doesn't love me anymore. Maybe I've smothered her too much or maybe I haven't done enough to show that I love her. Maybe it's partly my fault that she's gone.

Whatever the reason, I've lost her. She gave me back her wedding ring. I can't describe how much that hurt to open that baggie and see it in there. To know she took it off her finger because she doesn't love me. There's no way to adequately put into words how that felt. I put the ring in the pocket of my jeans. It's still there. I can't take it out. It feels like she is still with me this way.

I've cried for two straight. I haven't even gone to work – I took two personal days. My mother has called numerous times to check on me – so has Olivia – but I'm not in the mood to talk to either of them. They won't understand the absolute heartbreak and torture I'm going through right now.

Casey is still everywhere in the house. She left a lot of her clothes here, including her Calex t-shirt. When I found both of our Calex shirts hanging together in the closet, it killed me. Casey had those made for us. She had them made because she loved me and wanted to show it in her usual playful and adorable way. I took mine off the hanger and put it on right after she left. I'm still wearing it.

I took the book of letters that Casey made for me and hid them away in my bottom drawer. I used to love to read them, but I don't think I can bear to look at them ever again. The book will always be complete, and it will hurt too much to even see it.

I've lost my princess, my best friend, my soul mate, my Casey. I've lost everything that made me smile and made me happy. I know she is going through a lot…but she left me as if I never meant anything to her at all. It's unbearable, indescribable pain.

I'm sitting on what used to be our bed staring down at my wedding ring and the charm bracelet Casey gave to me. My heart is aching and tears are running down my cheeks. I've cried so much these last two days I can't believe I have any tears left. I'm thinking about the cute look on Casey's face when she gave me the bracelet. How she excitedly explained that it's a life stage charm bracelet, and how she had been overjoyed when I was able to add the house charm to it.

I remember Casey's excited smile when we looked at our house for the first time. She had loved the idea of the pool, even though she thought the house was too lavish and expensive. All I could think about was how sexy she is in her bikini and all the hours we'd spend lounging around the pool admiring each other and swimming. I remember how we had our first fight as a married couple about getting the house, and how I'd won Casey over slowly.

I remember not wanting her to get her motorcycle because I was afraid she would get hurt on it. I remember how she worked hard on the safety classes I had asked her to take, and how impressed I was the first time I saw her get on that Honda. I could tell she was a novice and I was still terrified, but seeing her on that bike so full of confidence and so sexy is something I'll always remember.

I remember going to see her at her office, and watching her through the window of the conference room. Being in awe of how in charge she was, and my heart bursting with pride when I realized she finally had her confidence back. I remember feeling prouder than I've ever felt in my entire life.

I remember how much I hurt Casey when I confessed what I had done with Olivia right after she proposed to me. I remember the devastated look on her face, and how empty and desolate I felt when she left me. Just as empty and desolate as I feel now.

I remember our ER room engagement, and sitting in the hospital when Casey was having her appendix removed, logically knowing she would be all aright but at the same time scared to death. There had been only a handful of times that I'd been that scared.

I remember my car accident, and how Casey sat there on the road with me and kept me alive when I felt myself slipping away. She was wearing her beautiful dress from the mayor fundraiser, and it had been like her presence alone was enough to keep me with her.

I get up off the bed and pick up a framed wedding photo from our dresser. I sit back down, holding it and smiling sadly at the memory. I remember or wedding day. The best day of my life. The beautiful Botanical Gardens, the orchestra, our families and friends gathered. Everything had been perfect, but the most perfect thing had been my Casey. She was wearing the most gorgeous dress I had ever seen, and her bridal tiara made her look just like the princess that she was. I remember how the sparkles on her dress and her cheeks caught the sunlight just right. The feel of Casey's hand in mine, and the two of us crying our eyes our and ruining our makeup. We had been so happy. And when it was made official and we were declared "The Cabot's", I'd never been happier in my entire life. And I thought that happiness would last forever.

But I guess the fates conspired and decided against that.

All these memories have cemented a belief in me – the belief that I can still help Casey. Even if she truly doesn't love me anymore, I still want to help her. I still love her and I want her to get help about whatever happened to her. I'm not giving up on her, even if she wants me too. I can accept the fact that she doesn't want me, but I can't accept her living the rest of her life with severe depression.

I have to find her. And I know who can help me.

I go back into the living room to retrieve my phone from the end table, when the doorbell startles me out of my thoughts. I stand there dumbly staring at the door, a cold chill going through me. I'm playing all these awful scenarios in my head – what if something happened to Casey? What if that's the police, here to tell me she's been arrested, or been in an accident?

The doorbell rings again, and this time I make my legs carry me over to the door. With a shaking voice, I ask who it is.

"Senator Palmer," comes the reply.

I'm shocked out of my mind. What is he doing here? He has never been to our house before. And I look terrible – bags under my eyes from no sleep and crying, wearing my Calex shirt and Casey's old worn jeans. I'm not exactly presentable. Not the image of Alex Cabot at all.

But I can't leave a United States Senator standing on our porch, so I immediately open the door. "Senator, hi."

He's dressed much more presentable than I am. His hair is perfect, and he's wearing a nice pressed black suit. "Hi, Alex. I'm sorry for just dropping by. But I'm looking for Casey?"

I'm confused. Looking for Casey? She's at work. And he obviously doesn't know that she left me. I swallow and say, "Casey isn't here…isn't she at the office?"

Now it's his turn to have confusion written across his face. "Alex…Casey turned in her resignation on Monday. Didn't she tell you?"

I feel faint. Casey quit her job? She loves that job – why on earth would she do that? I feel like I'm going to pass out, and I have to squeeze the doorknob to stay upright. "She – quit?"

He nods. "I thought maybe I could talk to her."

I have to tell him. He has to know what's going on. I open the door wide and ask, "Are you busy? Do you have a minute? We need to talk about Casey."

He nods and steps inside, and I close the door behind him. I feel a little intimidated right now. Even though I know Senator Palmer, it's still unusual to have such an important person in my home. I offer him something to drink, which he declines, so we just go to the living room to sit down.

The Senator takes the couch and I sit in the chair across from it, leaning forward and nervously wondering where to begin. There is no easy way to say it, so I just come out with it. "Casey left me. A couple days ago. She'd been depressed for more than a week and very withdrawn from me. She packed her bags, took the dog, and gave me back her wedding ring. Said she didn't love me anymore."

The Senator seems surprised. "Oh, Alex, I'm so sorry. I am so shocked to hear that. You two were always perfect together. I can't think of a marriage that was more perfect than yours. And Casey talked about you all the time – you wouldn't believe how much she loved you. I am so sorry to hear about that."

I feel the waterworks starting up again, but I manage to suppress the tears. "Thank you. I am too. But Casey hasn't been herself for over a week. Like I said, she was depressed. She slept down in the basement and the two of us barely said two words to each other. She'd reject my affection, she'd get angry with me…it was like she was a different person. And I tried to help her, but she didn't want my help."

"She was different at work too," the Senator explains. "Not her usual sarcastic and joking self. I noticed, and so did the staff. Her work was slipping and she was short with everyone, which was very unlike her. And I heard about the incident at the bar with Jenna. Now I know the two have never been friends and frankly I'm not that fond of Jenna either, but it still surprised me. That behavior is so unlike Casey."

"It had surprised me too. Scared me as well. Not that I was scared of Casey, but I was afraid of what she was going through. Depression can change people. It can make them violent. But a friend of ours who is a detective with the Special Victims Unit thinks that something happened to trigger Casey's behavior. She works with sexual assault victims and I used to prosecute cases for the unit. She has a lot of experience with victims. She thought…" I trail off, having to gather my thoughts. "She thought Casey may have been raped."

The look on Senator Palmer's face right now is unreadable. He is silent for several seconds until he looks back at me and asks, "Did her behavior change start when she came home the weekend of the fundraiser?"

I think for a moment. "Yes. It did, actually. Why?"

He leans back against the couch and sighs, and I feel my heart leap into my throat. Somehow I know what he is going to say isn't going to be good.

"Senator? Did something happen there?" I ask in a shrill, uncontrollable tone.

He leans forward again and meets my eyes. "There was an incident. I don't know if she told you or not. But she had spent most of the fundraiser with me, and I was introducing her around to prospective party donors and politicians. She was doing real well, but after a while I could tell she needed a break. So I told her to go relax. Well, the next time I saw her, she was falling-down drunk. At least that's what I had thought. Her words were slurred and she fell against the wall. I was with an important group of people when she approached me, and I had been humiliated and angry. Here I was telling them how great Casey was and what a bright future I thought she had with the Democratic Party, and she comes up to us drunk. She couldn't talk, and I had asked Jenna to take her up to the guest bedroom. When Jenna came back down, she said Casey was passed out in the bed. I had to apologize to everyone for Casey's behavior, and like I said, I was angry and embarrassed. She was still in the guest room the next morning. I left a note on the door for her."

I feel like someone is squeezing my insides, like I'm going to vomit. This is the worst feeling ever. "Casey never gets drunk. She drinks at parties, but never to the point of being drunk like that. She would _not _have done that."

"After what you've told me, I agree. But unfortunately, I thought so at the time. When she came to work that Monday I reprimanded her and told her I was disappointed in her and that I could no longer support her future in politics, if she chose it. She had said nothing about what happened at the fundraiser."

"She never told me any of that – _any_ of it. Not about staying in your guest bedroom…or any of it. And she would have." My heart rate is picking up now. I'm terrified. "She would have called me crying, saying she screwed up and needing me to build her back up. And she didn't want to come home the next day – she called me from her hotel and told me she had been sick. I went out there because I didn't want her to be alone. Her behavior was off, and she didn't want me touching her. I thought it was because she was sick. But now…"

Senator Palmer is realizing the same thing I am. "She was drugged."

I nod in agreement. "The date rape drug mimics the signs of being intoxicated. There was no way you or anyone else would have known the difference. Someone must have slipped it to her. And she was sick the next day from the pills. I've prosecuted these cases – I should have picked up on this. She was probably scared and confused…with the date rape drug, victims rarely remember the attack right after it happened, if they remember at all."

I've started to cry again, and I don't even care if it's in front of the Senator. After hearing about Casey's behavior at the fundraiser and knowing well full she wouldn't have gotten drunk, I'm nearly hysterical. Someone drugged my Casey. Someone _raped _my Casey.

She's probably starting to remember. That was what that dream was about, and that is why she was withdrawn and left me. Not because she doesn't love me – but because she's ashamed. Rape victims can't confess to the person they love the most, just as Olivia says. I should have listened to her.

My poor, poor baby. She's been carrying around this awful secret. She's been alone in her suffering. And that's not right. I should have realized sooner. This wouldn't have happened if I had attended the fundraiser with her…this is all my fault.

Senator Palmer sighs again. "I am so sorry, Alex. I didn't know. I never should have told her I was disappointed in her – I should have known better. I'm sorry."

"You couldn't have known," I told him. Olivia said people don't like to believe something as bad as rape has happened to someone they care about…and she's right. "When our friend came to me with this, I refused to believe it. A part of me thought she was right, but I wouldn't embrace it. Because I loved Casey and couldn't bear to think something like that had happened to her. I started to confront her before she left, but I waited too long…" My eyes fill with tears. "I waited too long, and now she's gone. She wouldn't tell me where she's going. She needs my help. She needs to know I still love her. She shouldn't be alone."

Senator Palmer stands up from the couch. "Call your detective friend – let's find Casey. She has to tell you what happened. What she can remember, at least. If someone at that fundraiser raped her, I swear to you that I'll make them pay. I'll use every available influence to make sure they are held responsible for what they did to Casey. Mark my words."

I know he's serious – I can tell. And I feel the same way. I'm pretty influential too, and I plan on exercising my muscle to get Casey justice too. But none of this can happen if I don't find Casey and make her talk to me.

The next few minutes are a blur. I fumble with the touchscreen on my phone, until the phone is finally ringing. I stand there in a mild panic, pressing the phone to my ear and willing Olivia to answer. When she does, I mince no words. "Liv – I need at you my house. We _have _to find Casey right away."

**Things are moving now. What do you think is going to happen? Will Alex find Casey at the cabin? How will she drag the truth out of her? Or is too late - has Casey really left her for good? Please review and let me know what you think of this chapter, and thoughts about what you think will happen now.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry for the delay in updating! Been busy the past few days and I wanted this chapter to be just right. Hope you enjoy it!  
**

**Casey's POV**

These past few days have been very hard. Being out of my home and away from Alex is literally killing me. I haven't done anything except lie on the couch or on the bed crying and sitting out on the deck watching Blaze run. I haven't gone anywhere; I haven't even eaten anything. We made sure nothing was left in the cupboards or refrigerator the last time we were here and I am not in the mood or mindset to go to the grocery store several miles away.

Eating isn't a necessity now anyway – I already feel dead. Every time I see my finger without my beautiful wedding ring, it eats away at me even more. I used to look at that ring throughout the day and feeling nothing but pride and happiness. Now the absence of it is unbearable.

I think about Alex all the time. I wonder how she's handling me being gone and I hope she's going to be able to move on. I know she's probably crippled with grief and the thought of that breaks my heart, but I hope one day she is able to find someone else to share her life with. Someone who won't drag her down and surround her with depression. My Alex deserves more than I can give her now.

She's called me more times than I can count and sent numerous texts. I've ignored them all. It will only break her heart more if I respond. Olivia started calling me this afternoon as well, but I can't talk to her either. It's going to be best to make a clean break with them.

It's an unusually warm day so I decide to go for a walk with Blaze. I need to get out of the cabin for a while and walking usually helps clear my head somewhat. I feel sluggish from inactivity and lack of food. I desperately need the fresh air and exercise.

I grab Blaze's leash and call him to me. As soon as he sees me holding the leash, his tail begins to wag. He hasn't gone on a walk for a few days and the sight of me holding his leash is making me optimistic. I've barely paid him any attention at all since I've been here. He probably thinks I don't like him anymore. And that's not the case at all – I still like my dog. I just don't like myself.

Even though it's a warmer day, I still put on my light jacket. It's not quite warm enough to go jacket-less, or maybe it's just that I'm permanently cold to the bone. I hook Blaze's leash on him and away we go.

I like the seclusion out here. There's no around to bother me. No questions, no forcing myself to smile and act like everything's fine. Just me and my dog, and my ferret back at the cabin. Neither of them will judge me or my actions.

We walk off the property into the woods and I'm overwhelmed by an extremely sad feeling. The last time I walked these woods, I was with my wife. There was snow on the ground and it was Christmas Eve. The memory is vivid, and grips me so hard that I actually have to stop walking and sit down on a nearby log.

"_Casey, I want to go back to the cabin – I'm freezing!" Alex whines, adjusting her wool scarf and shivering even under her thick winter coat._

_I have to laugh at her. Hearing Alex say "I'm cold," is a pretty common occurrence, especially in the winter time. She gets cold so easily. It's always my job to warm her up._

_I slide my arm around my wife's shoulder and turn us in the direction of the cabin. Darkness is starting to all, and it's going to get colder. We aren't yet familiar enough with these woods to be out at night. And besides, a warm fire and cuddling up with my wife in front of it sounds absolutely wonderful to me._

"_We'll go back. Maybe if you had more than zero percent body fat you'd be warmer," I mock Alex._

"_Don't start on me," Alex snaps back good-naturedly. I feel her snuggle into my side as we walk. "You feel warm, as always." She turns her head and kisses me right on the neck, causing goosebumps to form. Then she places her mouth right by my ear and whispers, "I can't wait to pressed up against you." Her voice is sultry and sexy, and if it weren't so cold, I'd take her right there._

_We leave the woods and finally reach our property, and by now Alex's gloved hand is clutching mine. "Your hand is freezing! Why don't you wear gloves?" she scolds._

"_I hate them. They're too confining," I tell her._

"_That's stupid, Casey. Your hand is going to be too numb to properly play with me."_

_I burst out laughing and stop walking so I can hug my wife. She's grinning at me with this dopey grin and all I can do is throw my arms around her and squeeze her tight. "I love you so much, Alex. You have no idea. I'm so happy to be your wife, and I'm happy we're spending our first Christmas as the Cabot's here." When I release Alex, she's giving me that loving gaze and I capture her in a long, passionate kiss and end the moment by saying, "You're my Christmas present this year."_

_She touches my cheek and traces over the small scar on my face from my mugging very gently. The glove feels rough on my face, but I say nothing. Alex locks her clear blue eyes on me and I realize they are shining with moisture. She's crying. "I love you too, Casey. And you're my present too. My present this Christmas, and every other."_

"_Wow, you'd better be careful. I don't come with a receipt. No returns on me," I say cockily. "If you decide you don't like me or I don't fit you, you are stuck with me. All sales are final."_

_Alex rolls her eyes at me. "Didn't you even come with a gift receipt? That's pretty rude, Casey. To be so sure I'd want to keep you that you don't even give me the option for a return." She feigns disgusts and reaches out and playfully pushes me away. "You're a disgrace."_

_I come right back with, "Oh? And did __**you **__come with a receipt?"_

_She sheepishly shakes her head. "No. But I mean, come on – it's __**me. **__Why would you want to return __**me**__?"_

_I'm laughing now and enjoying our easy banter. I love it when we get into it like this. I have never been able to talk to anyone else this way. _

"_Ohhh, super-conceited, huh?" I snap back. "So you're perfect?"_

_Alex shrugs. "Of course."_

_I march up right in front of her and cross my arms in front of my chest. "Really? I have a severe objection to that."_

_She cocks her head at me in that adorable manner she has. "Oh? Let's hear it, former Novak."_

_I laugh again. "Former Novak? That's cute. And okay, I'll tell you why you are not perfect. Number one, you are way too noisy at night when you get up to go to the bathroom."_

_Alex gasps. "I'm as quiet as a mouse! I try exta-hard to be quiet and not disturb you. And I have never seen you wake up."_

"_That's because I lie there and pretend like I'm still asleep. But you wake me every time. Your footsteps sound like a herd of buffalo, the you turn the bathroom light on __**before **__you close the door, and you even flush the toilet loudly."_

_It's Alex's turn to laugh. "Excuse me, baby but how exactly do I flush the toilet 'loudly'? You can only do it one way."_

_I laugh too. "I don't know – but I swear you manage. And you say you're as quiet as mouse? Sure – a linebacker mouse with lead shoes stomping all over the bedroom. And you pretty much fall back onto the bed. You're a sleep-disturber."_

"_Hmm. Well, my rudeness at night doesn't seem to affect your next-day performance in any way. You're still the insanely cute and cocky Casey that you always are. And," Alex takes another step towards me and touches my cheek again. "And you still seem to have a lot of night energy for other tasks as well."_

"_Well, I'll always have energy for that."_

_Alex strokes my cheek and gazes into my eyes again. "In what other ways am I not perfect?"_

_I'm crazy – she __**is **__perfect. She's perfect in every way – her looks, her personality, her love. There is not a single thing gracing this earth that is as perfect as my wife. So I tell her, "Nothing – I was wrong. You are perfect." I reach up and touch __**her **__cheek this time. "My perfect Alex."_

_We share a moment where no further words are needed – just gazing into each other's eyes lovingly is enough. And then Alex says, "Okay, then come on – take your 'perfect' wife inside and warm her up, then I'll tell you the ways that __**you **__are perfect."_

_We start walking again when a sudden impulse comes over me. I'm fighting it, but it's getting stronger and weakening me. We get about twenty feet from the front door when I give into it and fall down into the snow._

_Alex gasps and immediately crouches down beside me. "Casey! What happened? Did you slip?" I'm lying on my back and she's leaning over me, her blue eyes clouded with concern. _

_And I burst out laughing. Laughing at what I'm about to do, and laughing at how serious Alex looks. Her concern turns to a confused expression as I start flailing my arms up and down. "Casey, what the hell?"_

_She doesn't get it – how can she __**not **__get it? "A snow angel! I'm making a snow angel!" I flap my arms a few more times, staring into Alex's now-amused face. She makes no effort to join me, so I stop mid-flap and sit up. "Didn't you ever make snow angels?"_

"_Yes; as a child. I don't know any adults who make them."_

_I pout at her. "Your wife does."_

"_Then I want a divorce."_

_I laugh again and yank on her arm. "Come on! Get in the spirit! We're alone, and it's Christmas Eve. Humor me?"_

_She grumbles but does get down on the snow beside me. "I hope you appreciate this…it's going to make me even colder."_

"_No way, babe – you're always hot."_

_Alex makes a face at me and then gets on her back and flaps her arms. She's smiling, but at the same time she says, "I feel ridiculous."_

_I giggle. "You __**look **__kind of ridiculous too."_

_She sits up immediately. "Casey! This was your idea, and now you are making fun of me?"_

_I'm laughing so hard I can barely contain myself. "You're just so cute, Alex."_

_She picks up a handful of snow and throws it at me. It hits the front of my coat and spreads out. She grins and says, "Opps – my hand slipped."_

_I pick up a handful and make it into a small ball, grinning devilishly. I can throw pretty hard, but I purposely use little strength and pelt Alex in the leg with the snowball. "Funny – so did mine."_

_The next thing we know we're assaulting each other with snow and giggling uncontrollably. Alex lets loose a continuous stream of poor-constructed snowballs and before long, the entire front of my coat is covered with wet, white snow. In retaliation, I litter her coat with snow as well, then I rip off her cute little stocking cap and drop a snowball directly onto the top of her head. It hits and spreads out, sending droplets of snow rolling down her blonde hair._

_Alex squeals and grabs me, holding my head in a headlock. "Casey! That was uncalled for!" she says, laughing. "Some of that snow went down my back!"_

_Once she releases me, I grin stupidly at her. "Good – you deserve it for starting a snowball fight."_

"_So this was my fault?"_

_I nod. "Of course – everything always is."_

_In an instant, things turn serious. We're staring into each other's eyes and Alex is holding me by my shoulders in her lap. I reach up and smooth back her snow-soaked hair as she presses a kiss to my forehead. "I love you, Casey. You're absolutely wonderful."_

_I don't hesitate to come back with, "I love you too. I always will."_

As quickly as the memory came flooding back to me, it fades. It's painful to remember our happy times. Back when our relationship was as easy as breathing. We could engage in our playful banter and make fun of each other without a second thought. To us, it was normal and a part of our relationship. I loved being with Alex. She was the only person I ever felt I could be myself with.

Warm tears are streaming down my cheeks as Blaze finds something he's very interested in sniffing, so I sit down right on the hard ground and hold onto his leash and sob for the life I used to have and will never have again.

* * *

The next morning I am awakened by Blaze barking. I had slept only a couple of hours, having been plagued with awful nightmares about Jenna and Alex for most of the night. I'm groggy and it takes me several minutes to come to enough to realize what the racket is.

He is going absolutely nuts, and as I get out of bed I can hear someone knocking on the door. Fear immediately grips me – what if it's Alex? What would I say to her?

I throw a pair of my jeans on and wander out into the hallway. The knocking has increased and as I make my way out onto the porch to open the door, I see Olivia's car in the driveway and I stop dead in my tracks.

Olivia must be able to see me through the window, because I hear her voice. "Casey? It's Olivia."

My heart rate has increased and I feel nauseous. I can't pretend like I'm not here – my dog is barking, my jeep is in the driveway and I'm standing right here. But why is she here? Why did she come?

I quiet Blaze and somehow manage to swallow my fear long enough to open the door.

Olivia is standing on the steps, dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt with her favorite leather jacket on over the sweatshirt. She stares at me for several seconds before giving me an uneasy, tentative smile.

I know what I must look like. Run-down with bags under my eyes and my hair unkept…I'm a disgrace to my former self.

"How are you?" she asks me, knowing the answer already.

Instead of answering, I ask my own question, "Is Alex with you?"

She shakes her head. "No. I came alone."

I hesitate. "How did you find me?"

"Your phone has GPS. And Alex thought you might be here. So here I am," she answers.

I sigh heavily. "I wish you hadn't come. You wasted your time. I'm not coming home, if that's what you came to talk to me about."

She stares me down with an uncertain look, and then looks past me into the cabin. "Can I at least come in so we can talk? I did just drive almost four hours…"

I guess I do owe her that much, so I nod and hold the door open as she steps inside. She thanks me, and I lead her through the living room into the kitchen. Olivia is checking the place out and once we reach the kitchen she remarks, "Wow…this place is really nice. Alex's parents must really love you. Are these all new appliances?"

I don't answer as I pull out a chair at the table and sit down. All I want is to get her out of here as quickly as possible. Olivia seems to sense that I'm not in the mood for small talk, so she comes over to the table and sits across from me.

Neither of us speaks at first and I have to breach the silence with, "What did you want to talk about?"

She stares hard at me and finally says, "I'm sure you know. I want to talk about what's going on with you."

I avert my eyes to the tabletop. "Nothing is going on with me. I'm depressed, and I fell out of love with my wife." It actually hurts me to pass that sentence.

I can feel Olivia's eyes on me. "I know that's not true, Casey. I know how much you love Alex. And you know how much she loves you. She's a wreck without you. She thinks she did something wrong. You've destroyed her, Casey. I didn't come to make you feel guilty, but I want you to know what you did to her."

I force my eyes on Olivia and say, "You don't have room to judge me for that – you did the same thing to her two years ago."

Olivia looks hurt. "You're right – I did. And you were there to pick her up, weren't you? You were there to love her and give her a life again. She became happy, happier than she'd ever been with me…all because of you."

I'm looking at the tabletop again and my heart is clenching in my chest and filling me with guilt and sadness.

"And I'm not judging you, Casey – I'm just letting you know that state in which you left Alex."

I raise my eyes to her again. "You think I don't know how upset she is? I'm upset too, Olivia!" My emotions are causing a storm inside of me, and without warning I jump up from the table. I'm feeling out of control again. "You think I _wanted _to leave my wife? You think I would have left her if I had another choice?"

Olivia remains perfectly calm. "You_ did _have another choice, Casey. And I know how hard that choice would have been…but you did have another one."

I'm angry now. Furious. How dare she come here and accuse me, and then tell me she isn't judging me? That's exactly what she's doing! I pace in front of the table, trying to keep my temper and emotions in check. I don't like Olivia being here. I don't like her talking about Alex, and I don't like having to explain myself to her.

Olivia sighs and then says, "I was planning on dancing around this for a bit, but I think I just need to come out with it. Casey, I know something to happened to you. I'm a detective for the Special Victims Unit…I know the signs to look for."

I freeze where I'm standing and look at Olivia in horror. All the color drains from my face as her words sink in. "Wh-what are you talking about?"

She gives me a sympathetic smile. "Sit down, Casey. Please. Calm down, and sit down. We need to have a talk."

Everything inside of me is screaming at me to throw Olivia out of the cabin and then get in my Jeep and drive to my father's house before Alex comes and finds me herself, to run away and never be seen again. That would be easier than the conversation Olivia wants to have. But somehow, I sit down. I don't even argue. I just resume my place in the kitchen chair and clasp my hands together on the tabletop.

Olivia smiles again. "Your depression, you shying away from Alex's affection, wanting to be alone…and then witnessing your behavior at the bar with that Jenna girl."

I actually shiver when Olivia says her name, and I look away in shame. Just hearing that name weakens me and reminds me that I'm not a person anymore.

Olivia sighs again. "Casey, I know this is hard. I know what you're going through. But you have to tell me…were you raped?"

Wow, she just said it – just like that. She came right out with it. I want to fight her, to continue to deny it and keep up from the table like everything is normal. But I know she would see right through that charade. She's dealt with people in my situation for years. _Victims._

My eyes fill with tears as I continue to stare at her, and Olivia softens her tone. "Casey…tell me. You'll feel better when you let it out. It's the first step towards healing."

Tears are streaming down my cheeks now. I desperately want to tell, to let the secret out; harboring it is literally killing me. But if I tell Olivia, she'll tell Alex. And then Alex will know I'm a dirty, awful human being.

Olivia reaches out and places her hand over my clasped ones. "Casey…it's okay. You can tell me. I'm going to help you, okay? I care about you, and Alex loves you. We want what's best for you."

I wipe my eyes with my sleeve. "_We_? Alex knows?"

"I talked to her about my thoughts, yes. She didn't want to believe it at first. But then Senator Palmer came to your house to talk to you about coming back to your job, and the two of them came to the realization that something is going on with you. They put all the clues together. And Alex called me and asked me to find you. She wants you back, Casey. She wants you home. She wants to help you. She loves you."

I'm so overcome with tears that I can barely speak. Alex knows…she had asked me what happened before I left, but I hadn't realized that she actually _knew._ I can just imagine her at home, torturing herself thinking and worrying about me. My wife, my Alex…

Olivia clears her throat and asks again, "Were you raped, honey?"

I start to cry harder, and all I can do is nod. I want to correct her, to tell her I was _assaulted _but not raped. My attacker was a woman. Women don't 'rape' other women. But I can't – I can't tell her. It's I

I see tears in Olivia's eyes now. "Oh, Casey…I am so sorry…"

She moves to get up and come around to hug me, but I hold my hand up to stop her. I don't want her to hug me. I don't want her to touch me – I don't deserve it. I'm a shit person for allowing this to happen and then destroying Alex's life.

Olivia sits back down, tears still in her eyes. "Casey, you aren't alone in this, even though it feels like you are. I know what you are going through. You couldn't tell Alex because you were ashamed; you felt like it was somehow your fault. I understand that. It's nearly impossible to confess something like this to the person you love the most. Alex understands it too, Casey. She really does. And she's not mad at you."

I'm looking at the tabletop again, tears freely running down my cheeks. I shake my head and say, "I can't face her, Liv. Especially now that she knows."

"Casey, you love her. You know you do. You have to go home and open up to her. She is so worried about you. She wants you home so she can help you through this. You can't go through this on your own."

I keep my eyes away from Olivia. There is no way to describe how I feel right now. I feel relieved that my secret is out, but also terrified that Olivia knows the truth. She's silently judging me; I can feel it.

"It's going to take time to recover, but you need Alex. You need to get on the road to recovery. That won't happen if you continue on the path you're on now. And have you been to a doctor? You need to get checked for an STD…or pregnancy."

I finally look up at her and shake my head. "No – I don't need a doctor. I don't have an STD and I'm not pregnant. It's impossible."

"How do you know?" Olivia asks gently. "Did he…use a condom?"

I close my eyes. God, I want to tell her…it would make this so much easier. But all I can say is, "Trust me, Olivia; it's impossible."

She gives me an odd look, but drops the subject. "Casey…I guess the bottom line is this – everyone understands why you ran away. We understand why you desired to be alone. We understand the shame that…" she struggles to find the right word. I can tell she is trying to avoid saying 'Victim'. "That people in your place go through. But you have to let people in. I'm glad you confided in me, but the person you really need to confide in is your wife. You need to go home and put that ring back on and start walking down the road to recovery with your wife by your side. It's the only way you'll heal."

I know she's right. Everything logical inside of me tells me that she's right. I'm about to respond when she says, "Who raped you, Casey? You need to press charges. They need to be held responsible."

I feel a chill go through me and I stiffen. I can't reveal that it was a woman. I_ can't_. "I can't tell you. I can't."

Olivia nods slowly, as if she had been expecting that. "You don't have to tell me. But you do have to tell Alex."

Without another word, she stands up. "Go get your stuff – you're going home. I'll drive you. You're too upset to drive. We'll get your jeep another day. Go get your stuff together and I'll get you home to Alex."

I feel like a robot, like everything is in slow motion. I rise from the table without objection and march myself into the living room. A million thoughts are racing through me and I feel like I'm going to vomit.

I have to confess to Alex that I was violated in the worst way possible. I have to confess that I _let _it happen. I have to see the look on her face when she hears my words, and I have to see her sorrow and tears. That's going to break my even more.

I hear Olivia on her phone in the kitchen. She's talking in a low tone, but I can still hear her words. "I'm bringing her home, Alex. Yes. Uh-huh. She's okay. I don't know. We'll see you soon."

I stand cemented in place until I hear Olivia disconnect the call and come walking into the living room. She gives me a smile. "Want me to help you get ready?"

I just shake my head and disappear to the bedroom to start packing my bags. There _is _no ready for this.

**So what do you think? Will Casey be able to tell Alex what happened? And will she reveal that it**** was Jenna? And what will happen when Alex finds out? Please review and let me know what you think of the chapter!  
**


	12. Chapter 12

**I know I usually update "These Crashing Seas" before this one, but I have a little writer's block on that story right now so the next chapter is coming pretty slowly. I know where I want to take it, but am having some trouble getting there. But don't worry - it will come. Will update that story within a week or so.  
**

**Until then, here is the update everyone has been waiting for :) - Enjoy!  
**

**Alex's POV**

As soon as I disconnect the call with Olivia, I'm shaking and crying.

My Casey is okay. She's coming home. I'm extremely happy, but also nervous as well. Casey has taken the first step by agreeing to come home and talk to me. I can't come on too strong and drive her away again. As much as I'm going to want to hug her and never let her go as soon as she gets out of Olivia's car, I know I can't.

She's initiating this first step because she _wants _to; I can't push her away by being overly attentive or pushy. I have to show her I still love her, but at the same time continue to give her space as she heals. And I'll do all that; I'll do anything for my Casey.

Despite the gravity of the situation, I know that having Casey back will make my heart whole again. As soon as that ring slips back onto her finger it will be like I have my life back. I know things won't improve overnight; we still have a very long road to walk and a lot to tackle. And I still have to convince Casey to open up to me. She's told Olivia…but telling the person who loves her will be extremely difficult.

My heart clenches and my happiness fades a little as I remember why this all happened. My Casey is a victim; someone _violated _her. Someone raped my wife. My sweet, wonderful, caring Casey. Just the thought of someone doing that to her and Casey probably scared out of her mind brings tears to my eyes. It's so unfair. It shouldn't happen to anyone, but especially my Casey.

Olivia told me about her confession, but I won't tell Casey I know for sure. I want her to tell me herself, and I promised Olivia I wouldn't tell her. Casey has to come to me with this because she wants to and feels comfortable. I can ask her what happened, but I can't force her to tell me. I can only make her realize that my feelings for her have not changed in the least bit and that I still love her more than my life itself.

After talking to Olivia and seriously thinking about this situation, I can't blame Casey in the least bit for not wanting to talk to me about what happened. I put myself in her place, and saw it from her eyes. And it was an awful place to be. I'm sure she feels guilt and shame, and looking at me probably enhances these feelings. She probably feels as though she has failed as a wife. Olivia summed it up best when she said the ones we love are the hardest to open up to. That's for sure. If the same thing happened to me, I wouldn't want to tell Casey. I'd never forgive myself; I'd think I somehow _allowed _it to happen. And I know if Casey were in my place, she wouldn't give up on me. She'd find a way to show me that she still loved me, and she would have done it by now.

_I _have failed _Casey. _I didn't attend that fundraiser with her…if I had gone, none of this would have happened. She wanted me to go – it was important to her. Casey doesn't ask for much, ever. And I couldn't even do this one thing for her. I told her I couldn't rearrange my schedule that weekend. That wasn't true; I could have. I _should _have. What is the matter with me? I let my wife go alone to an important event…and someone raped her.

She's the best wife a person could ask for. She's patient and understanding, which is more than I can say about myself most of the time. She treats people all the time the way we all wish we treated people even half of the time.

This should _not _have happened to Casey. It should have been me.

I'm sitting on the couch now with my knees pulled up to my chest, sobbing my heart out for Casey. I ache for her; I can't imagine how she's feeling. This awful secret she's been carrying around…it must be killing her. Confessing to Olivia must have been a relief.

I cry for myself too; out of guilt and sorrow. I cry for adding to Casey's grief, and for acting selfishly and letting this happen. And then I realize that I'm _still _being selfish. My wife is on her way home and still carrying around her secret shame and I'm sitting on our couch crying and feeling sorry for myself. I'm ashamed. Casey needs to realize that I love her by more than just words. I need to _show _her, the way she would show me. She needs to come home to a house filled with love, not sorrow.

So I immediately spring into action. An idea is forming in my head. Casey wrote me those letters every week to express how much she loved me. They were always sincere and dripping with genuine emotion. Every time we'd curl up together and read her most recent one, I'd be filled with pride, happiness and love from not only the words that Casey had written, but also by the meaning behind them. And she always wrote them by hand; she told me once that if the letters were typed they would seem impersonal. Now I understand what she means. Taking the time to write them was all part of the love.

I take my little pad of post-it notes out of my purse. It's less than half a pad, but luckily I picked up a few more at the grocery store a few days ago. I quickly retrieve them from my drawer. They're different colors, but it won't matter. It might even make what I have in mind look more unique.

I get my Sharpie from the junk drawer in the kitchen and head downstairs to the basement. It feels bittersweet walking down these stairs; I haven't been down here since Casey left. I remember being so happy and excited about getting the game room together. Sitting down here with Olivia and Renee, thinking about the excited look that was going to be on Casey's face when she saw what we had done…

And then I remember that I had gotten home late the night of the fundraiser and come down here where Olivia and Renee had worked all day. I was down here at the same time Casey had been at the fundraiser. Maybe even while she was being raped…

That thought makes me have to take a detour into the basement bathroom. I'm overcome with a feeling of nausea and I have to toss the Sharpie and post-it pads onto the sink counter while I lean over the toilet and get sick. The thought of me sitting down here having a good time with Olivia and Renee while my wife was being raped makes my stomach turn again and again and I retch until I have nothing left in my stomach, collapsing on the rug in front of the toilet and breathing heavily.

I remain there for several seconds, trying to pull myself together. I'm crying now, angry tears mixed with tears of sorrow for my poor Casey. I'm not able to stand until the tears have subsided somewhat. I flush the toilet and make my way over to the sink to splash some water on my face.

I break down again as soon as I see Casey's ridiculous pink unicorn hand-towel draped over the towel rack. I hate that stupid towel. The pink is atrocious, and the cartoon unicorn on it is so sweet it makes my teeth hurt. Casey has had this for as long as I've known her. When I set the bathroom up down here, I banished the towel to the rack. Looking at it now makes me think of Casey's smile; something I haven't seen in a very long time. I touch the towel as more tears make their way down my cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Casey," I whisper. "So sorry I wasn't there, baby. Sorry I didn't realize."

I'll never forgive myself; I'm a horrible wife. Casey never would have chosen something at work over me. Ever. This is all my fault, and I have to make this right.

I pull myself together and take my Sharpie and post-its back into the game room. I stand in front of Casey's corkboard and look at the post-its that are already there, the ones I have left her over the past week and a half. I smile as I look at the photos of us she has pinned all over the board. I'm going to work around them. They're just too beautiful and meaningful to take down or move.

I stick up the first post-it with a push-pin and take my Sharpie to it. I write the first thing that comes to mind – "_You are my sun, my moon, and my stars." _I put up the second and write, _"I think I knew I loved you when I first got on the back of your scooter." _And then, _"I remember you in your torn jeans and flip-flops at the bar the first time I realized you were beautiful." _I keep going, and before long, I'm halfway through the first pad. I overlap some of the notes, but not enough that Casey won't be able to read them.

I write about memories, traits I love about Casey, reasons why I love her, what made me fall in love with her. I keep going and going, not having to pause even once because I never run out of things to say. My hand is starting to cramp up from the quick writing at the odd angle, but I don't care; I'm not about to stop now.

I go on. _"You made me 'me'," "You are the most gorgeous creature this earth has ever created," _and_ "Your heart is my favorite possession,"_ come next. I don't even have to think about what I'm writing – my mind is on automatic pilot. It's so easy to come up with things to say.

Before I know it, I've completely used up the first pad. I rip open the second one without a second thought and busily get to work on it. By now almost the entire corkboard is consumed by yellow and green post-it notes and our photos. I do a little re-arranging to compress space and keep going.

By the time I'm on the third pad, the corkboard is completely covered and I've already started on the wall next to it. I can't use push-pins to secure the notes to the wall like I could on the corkboard, so I carefully press down the sticky part of each note to the wall. I know they won't hold for long – but hopefully long enough for Casey to see them.

When I've finally used up my entire inventory of post-it notes, I step back and look at my handiwork. It's pretty impressive. You can't tell there is a corkboard or wall behind the post-its; it looks like a mass of solid green and yellow, save for the writing and photos. This should have taken me hours. For anyone else, I think it would have. But my love for Casey is so strong that I was able to pour my heart out into those notes in less than two.

I don't know if Casey will even take the time or be in the proper mindset to read them, but they're there and they aren't going anywhere. I want her to know how much I love her- I want to assure her that my love is unwavering, no matter what.

Now that I'm finished declaring my love, I don't know what to do with myself. I know I have at least another hour or so before Casey comes home, and I want everything to be perfect for her.

I'm a nervous wreck about seeing Casey. I'm so afraid I'm going to say or do the wrong thing and drive her away again. I keep telling myself that if I respect her space and let her tell me what happened on her own terms, everything will be fine. But part of me knows this going to be difficult. As soon as I lay eyes on my wife – knowing that she was raped – all I'm going to want to do is hold her forever. As hard as I try to stick to my guns, it's going to take everything I have to resist my protective urges.

Casey was _raped. _I can't get the thought out of my head; I can't even accept it. This is _Casey, _my wife. The girl who rides a scooter and a motorcycle. The girl who wears adorable plaid pajamas and oversized torn band shirts to bed. The girl who likes Mountain Dew and video games. And the girl that can make me feel just like a giddy teenager on a first date every time I look into her beautiful green eyes.

She's more than I deserve; I've always known that, but now I fully believe it. I am so inferior to her that there isn't even a way to describe it. I chose my job over my wife when it mattered the most, and I've allowed Casey to harbor an awful, life-destroying secret. I never even suspected that she could have been raped, and I _should _have. I should have known something more than depression was going on. I'm Casey's wife – it's my job to take care of her.

How could I miss the signs? The drastic change in her behavior I attributed to her depression, but I see them clearly now. Acting out in anger because of the self-hatred she felt for herself, shying away and refusing my affection because of how "dirty" she probably felt. It breaks my heart to think about what must have been going on in Casey's mind when I tried to touch and kiss her. Oh, my poor baby…my Casey…

I finger the pillows and blanket that are still folded neatly on the couch and my heart literally shatters. Now I know why Casey slept down here instead of with me. I think about taking them and putting them back in the hallway closet, but I decide against it. Casey may need to still sleep down here. It would kill me, but if it's what she needs, I'll have to allow her to do so. I can't take an option away from her. It's my job to help Casey now, not hinder her.

My mind wanders back to the near-fight at the bar with that Jenna girl from Senator Palmer's office. I think about how Casey's temper and behavior had scared me, and now I feel guilt. I remember yelling at her in the parking lot, feel frustration that she was pushing me away and not accepting my attempts to get her help. I had told her I didn't know how to help her anymore, and then had turned and walked away from her. I left her _alone. _I turned my back on her. How could I do that?

I sit down on the couch and sigh, holding my head in my hands. It's still so hard to believe something this tragic could happen to us. We both prosecuted sex crimes for years and never one once thought we would be on the other end of it. How could anyone know? Rape happens to strangers, to people we used to fight for justice for, to people on the news…not to Casey. No one has the right to do that to my wife – no one.

A sense of hatred fills me now. When I find out who raped Casey, I'm going to bring justice down on them so hard they won't even know what hit them. I'll be meeting with the Washington, DC District Attorney to make sure this is taken seriously. He or she had better promise me their A game, or I'll make so much noise about it that they won't have a choice. And I know I have an ally in Senator Palmer – he wants justice for Casey too. He wants to know who the rapist is as badly as I do. I think he feels responsible for what happened.

I think about something else Olivia said – how Casey most likely hadn't gone to a hospital after the rape. I start sobbing again as I think of what this could mean. When rape kits are done, evidence of the rape is collected and documented, blood is drawn to check for any date rape drugs, and the morning-after pill is given if it has been less than twenty-four hours since the rape. I know that no rape kit means no evidence, and no evidence means a tough case. It's been too long to check her for any type of date rape drug; it would be long out of her system by now. And what if she contracted an STD? What if she has HIV? HIV isn't properly detectable for months. The thought of Casey having HIV is the scariest thought in the entire world. My body is actually shaking as I think about the possibility. I know it's slim, but there's still a chance. It would devastate her; it would devastate us both. But I know with absolute certainty that if Casey tested positive for HIV, or Heaven forbid AIDs, I would still be with her. I wouldn't be afraid to kiss her or hold her hand, or have sex with her. I wouldn't care about the risks to me – I'd only care about Casey and continuing to be her wife.

And what if she's pregnant? A test can't be done for a couple weeks yet, but what would we do if it came back positive? We have already decided we don't want children. But what would Casey want? Would she want to keep it? Give it up for adoption? Have an abortion? I'd support any of those choices. As much as I never wanted a baby, I know I'd love it anyway. And if she chose adoption, I'd help her pick the perfect couple. Maybe a same-sex couple like us. If she were to choose abortion, I'd go with her and hold her hand during the procedure. I'd let Casey know I would support whatever decision she made. Her life is my life, and vice versa. She doesn't have to go through anything alone – including this rape.

Then I think about what a trial would do to Casey. All those years spent putting victims on the witness stand without a second thought because it was my job would come back to bite me in the ass. I can't imagine sitting in a courtroom and having to watch and listen to Casey describe what she can remember about the worst event of her life. It's sounds cruel, and for the first time I see things through the eyes of the victim. I always felt empathy for the victims I worked with, but it was always on a professional level. Now that tragedy has touched me, I realize exactly what it means to ask someone to take that stand and a tell a room full of strangers their shame. Someone is going to be asking Casey to do that. And my punishment for not going with Casey to the fundraiser and letting this go on so long is that I'm going to be there to see it.

We have a very long, difficult path ahead of us. But we're the Cabot's, and the Cabot's can conquer anything.

* * *

**Casey's POV**

This has been the longest car ride of my life. I feel exposed and vulnerable sitting the passenger seat; Olivia knows my secret. She keeps glancing at me as she is driving, as if to make sure I'm holding myself together. I can feel judgment in her eyes. She can see how dirty I am, and it's truly terrifying.

I ask Olivia to drive straight home without stopping. I know it's unfair expecting a dog to ride in the backseat of a car for three hours without stopping to go to the bathroom, but I don't think I could take it if we stopped; I think I would run away. So Blaze has been banished to the back, next to Harrison's pet carrier.

I haven't spoken a word since we left the cabin. Olivia has been talking to me, trying to pull me out of my shell, but it hasn't been working. Every minute brings me closer to facing my worst nightmare – confessing my secret shame to my wife.

I've been nervous for the entire three hour drive home, but as soon as Olivia pulls into our driveway and I look once more at the house I never thought I'd see again, my nervousness turns to complete and utter fear.

Olivia parks her car in the driveway and cheerfully announces, "You're home."

I sit frozen in place, my hand poised over the seatbelt release. I hear Blaze whine excitedly in the backseat and his thick bushy tail thump against the door of the car. I feel Olivia's eyes on me, studying me. She's trying to decide whether or not I'm going to break.

The front door opens, and Alex steps out onto the front porch.

I feel my heart rate increase and I begin to shake as I look at her. It's only been a few days since I have seen my wife, but seeing her now, it feels like years. She's just as beautiful as I remember, and has a very concerned look gracing her pretty face.

Olivia gets out of the car and opens the back door so Blaze can get out. He jumps up and literally runs up to Alex. She smiles and bends down to pet him before he bolts past her into the house. She immediately straightens back up and looks my way again.

I'm so conflicted right now. It's so hard looking at her; an overwhelming part of me wants to throw open the car door and run into Alex's arms, but the rest of me wants to demand that Olivia take me back to the cabin. I know neither will happen.

I can't stop shaking; I don't think I've ever been so scared. My life has been changed forever. Alex knows what happened to me; there is no going back from this. She will never look at me the same again; ever. I'll never been her Casey again. I'll forever be Casey the victim.

Olivia opens the passenger side door and crouches down to my level. She gives me a warm smile. "Casey…you have to get out of the car. Alex wants to see you."

I'm actually shaking so hard that my hand keeps hitting against the seatbelt and I feel sick. I lock my eyes on Olivia's and say, "I'm scared…she won't want me…"

Olivia gives me a sad look and stands up, turning around to look at Alex. When she looks back at me, I swear I can see tears in her eyes. "I'll be right back."

I have to look away as she walks away from the car towards Alex. It's hurting me too much to look at my wife. I feel inferior, like a stranger. A burden she doesn't need in her life.

A few minutes later I hear a kind soft voice call my name. "Casey…sweetheart, look at me."

That familiar loving voice causes me to turn my head towards the open door, and when I do I'm staring into Alex's warm watery blue eyes. The eyes I used to love to gaze into, that would peer right into my soul and make me feel like the most beautiful and precious thing on earth.

I can't hold back my emotions anymore – I allow myself to break down. The sobbing starts out gently and Alex reaches inside the car and takes my hand. My first instinct is to shy away from her, but the feel of her warm hand inside of mine is too familiar and comforting. I selfishly hold on as Alex starts shedding her own tears.

I made my wife cry. I made her cry because I allowed this to happen, because I returned my ring and left her, and because I came back. Tears are streaming down her beautiful face now because of _me_. I am the most pathetic useless thing on this planet.

I say the only thing that I can, "I – I'm sorry, Alex!"

She gives me a warm smile and smoothes my hair back, an affectionate gesture she used to love to always do to me. I flinch a bit under her touch, but I allow it; I _need_ it. I notice the light hit her wedding ring, and my heart clenches. She's still wearing hers…

"Oh, baby, you have _nothing_ to be sorry about," she says, stoking the back of my hand with her thumb. I can tell she desperately wants to hold me, but she's holding off, probably for my sake. "I'm so glad you're home. Can you come inside for me? Olivia will bring Harrison in."

She's speaking to me as if I'm an invalid or a child, but I'm too upset and frightened to object as I normally would.

I'm upset, insecure and frightened…yet Alex's touch and words feel strangely good. It's as if I never left her at all. She knows my worst secret, yet I still see love reflected in her eyes. It gives me momentary surge of hope that maybe Alex still sees me as _me_ despite what has happened.

"Come on, baby," she says softly again, standing up and keeping contact with my hand. "Come inside? Please?"

I stare at her for several seconds, hot tears still streaming down my cheeks. Besides love, I also see hurt and disappointment in her baby blues. All because of me. I've put Alex – the most wonderful woman on this planet – in the same state of sorrow and grief that I'm in. I left her to allow her to move on with her life without me there dragging her down. And here she is now, begging me to come inside with her, crying right along with me.

"I love you, Casey," she says, and that's the statement that breaks me all the way.

I burst into a new round of tears and finally unbuckle my seatbelt so I can get out of the car. I'm crying and shaking so badly that I near fall to the ground. Alex moves to steady me, but I make it clear I don't want to be touched at the moment. I allowed it moments before….but I'm out of the car now. I'm face-to-face with my wife, the person who loves me the most, and the person I've hurt the most. How am I supposed to look into her eyes? I know she loves me…but how can I _let _her love me?

Alex respects that I don't want to be touched, but I can see how much it's costing her to do so. I watch as she turns to face Olivia, who is standing awkwardly a respectful distance away. Alex clears her throat and says, "Thanks for bringing her home. Can you take the ferret inside and set his cage back up?"

Olivia nods. "Of course. And Renee and I will go get her Jeep in a couple days."

"I can go get it," Alex tells her.

Olivia puts her eyes on me. "No – you tend to Casey. We'll get her Jeep."

Alex thanks Olivia again and I watch as Olivia starts unloading the ferret cage from the trunk of her car. I'm watching her just to avoid looking at Alex, but the avoidance tactic won't last for long and I know it.

"Ready to go inside?" Alex finally asks, in a very hopeful tone. I manage to look at her, and I see a smile on her adorable face. I don't put up a fight – how can I? I follow Alex into the house, walking slowly and not speaking a word.

Walking through that front door is very emotional. I feel like a stranger entering my own home. The last time I walked out this door I thought I was gone for good…and now I'm back. So many memories pelt me at once as we walk through the entrance porch and into the house. All happy memories of the life we had before all _this._

I don't feel right here. Something is off, different. The atmosphere has changed somehow. Everything looks the same…but the feelings I'm getting being inside this house are not. Or maybe it's because _I _have changed. Either way, I realize this no longer feels like my home. This is _Alex's _home.

I don't know what's wrong with me. In the car I wanted nothing more than Alex to hold me and make this all better, and now I don't even want to be near her. I'm overwhelmed. I want to run to the sanctuary of my game room and stay there, disconnected and closed off like I was before. I don't want to face her, to answer the barrage of questions I know are coming. I want to pretend she doesn't know what happened.

I can feel myself getting worked up as we go to the kitchen and Alex opens the fridge. I'm surprised she hasn't yet asked me about my 'rape'. I'm sure she's dying to. I stand there like a robot as Alex holds out a can of Mountain Dew as an offering to me.

I look at the can as if it's radioactive and then back to Alex, shaking my head. "I don't want it."

Alex nods and puts it back on the shelf, backing away from the fridge. She leans onto the island, and I can tell she's searching for the right words to say. It's time to "talk". She puts her eyes on mine, wearing a serious expression and her eyes shining. Then she says, "Casey…I'm not going to crowd you, I promise. I don't want to do anything to drive you away again. But I know what happened to you, baby." Her voice breaks as she says this. "And it breaks my heart. We have to talk."

It happens in literally an instant – that awful feeling I got when we pulled up to the house returns and I know I have to get away. Fight or flight. I can't be here; I can't face Alex or this conversation. I'm not nearly strong enough. I take several steps back, just shaking my head. My brain is trying to come up with an escape route.

Alex comes around the side of the island, concern written all over her face. "Sweetie, I told you I won't crowd you…I won't even sit next to you if you don't want me to. But we _have _to talk. You've been carrying this around too long. You can't do it anymore, Casey. I'm here – I love you. Now that I know…I can't stand it. I'm your wife, Casey. You have to talk to me. Please. I just want to help."

She's not crowding me; she's forcing me into a corner. I can't take this. I can't. I feel like I'm going to vomit and my heart is going to leap right out of my chest.

And then I see it – my salvation. That wonderful basement door that leads to privacy where I can hate myself alone, away from Alex's loving gaze.

Alex sees me looking at the door and says, "Casey…please…"

As soon as those words leave her mouth, I turn and run for the door. I get there in seconds and tear it open, slamming it hard behind me and running down the stairs so quickly I nearly trip myself up.

I hurl myself onto the couch and cry into the stack of my blanket and pillow. I pound my fist against the fabric of the couch, beyond angry with myself. It was a mistake to come back here…why did I agree to do this? Why did I think I was strong enough? I'm not. I'm nothing anymore; Jenna made sure of that.

When I feel my tears subsiding, I sit up and wipe my eyes with my sleeve. I expect to see Alex standing next to the couch, but I'm alone, and that makes my heart fall even though it's what I want. I can't get my emotions figured out – I can't get _myself _figured out.

I'm about to get up off the couch when something on the wall catches my eye. I have to look twice, as it takes my teary eyes a few moments to focus on what I'm seeing.

And then it becomes clear – my corkboard and half the wall next to it is consumed with post-it notes. There are notes written in Alex's handwriting on each one. I approach slowly and immediately begin to read them.

"_I love you from the moment I close my eyes to the moment I open them again_," "_You put the smile on my face and make my life worth living,"_ _"When you hold me in your arms, our hearts and souls unite and we become one," _and _"I love everything about you, from your cute freckles to your bad habits and everything in between," _are the first ones I read.

I stay cemented in place, reading the notes and crying as I move on to another. The notes are beautiful and heartfelt, and must have taken Alex hours to compile. By the time I've read about twenty, I'm smiling and crying both.

I never had any doubt that Alex still loved me; my doubt was always _why _she would love me after someone else took what was supposed to be only hers. How could she? She would realize I didn't do enough to fight back, and that must mean I don't love her enough.

But as I go down the line and continue reading the notes, all my doubts begin to vanish. Alex poured her heart and soul into these post-its so I would realize just how much I mean to her. It's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done.

Suddenly, Alex's voice behind me startles me. "I thought you might like those."

I jump and turn around to face her. How long has she been standing there? I was so engrossed in reading the notes that I didn't even hear her come down the stairs.

I'm still crying and I clear my throat and say, "They're beautiful…I do love them."

All my anger is gone and as Alex steps up beside me, I feel nothing but love for her and extreme remorse for what I've done to her. I stare at her incredulously. Her eyes are red and puffy but she's smiling as she stands next to me looking at the notes. Her blonde hair is falling over her shoulders in just the right way. She's breathtaking, as always.

She smiles again, "Good. I meant every word." She turns and looks at me, locking her baby blues on my eyes. "You mean the world to me, Casey. I love nothing else even a fraction as much as I love you. You're not only my wife, but you're also my best friend and my soul mate. I can't survive without you, Casey. When you left, I…" she trails off, and closes her eyes to prevent herself from crying again. "I thought I was going to die. Literally die."

A fresh set of tears start pouring from my eyes. "I am so sorry, Alex. I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't tell you what happened; I was ashamed, and I felt you wouldn't love me anymore."

Alex's eyes well up. "Oh, Casey…that will _never _happen." She looks over at the couch and gently touches my arm. "Can we sit down?"

I nod and we sit on the couch so our knees are touching. Alex gently places her hand on my knee after asking me if it's okay. My heart breaks – my wife shouldn't have to _ask _to be able to touch me. Then she meets my eyes again and says, "I wanted to do something special for my wife," she picks up my hand and traces where my wedding ring used to be. "Because I love her. I wanted to show her the kind of love I feel when I read those sweet letters she writes for me."

My heart breaks again. The letters that I don't write anymore. I promised Alex I'd write them forever. I loved writing them, and loved cuddling with her to read them. That's another thing I've taken away from Alex.

Alex continues, "I didn't meant to make you feel guilty, baby. I understand why you haven't been writing them. I also understand why you have been pushing me away and why you're depressed. And it – " she stops talking and has to take a deep breath to steady herself. "It hurts so badly to know you have been living in a nightmare alone. That you couldn't tell me because you thought I wouldn't love you. God, Casey…I love you. Now and forever, no matter what." She runs her finger over where my ring was once again and sighs sadly. "Forever, Casey. Forever. If you doubt it, read the rest of the notes."

I don't doubt it – I can feel the love radiating off her, and my heart aches for it.

But love alone isn't going to fix this. Telling Alex what happened is just a _step…_there's many more to come, ones that I'm not sure I'm strong enough to even attempt.

But first, I have to take this first step – I have to tell my wife what I remember about the attack, and who is responsible. I can't keep it inside anymore, and Alex has a right to know. She loves me, and I love her. I promised no secrets…I have to keep my word.

I'm about to do the hardest thing I've ever had to do. After I'm doing telling Alex my story, I'll no longer just be her Casey. I'll be her Casey, the victim. And I'll have to live with that for the rest of my life.

"Casey…do you still love me too?" Alex asks.

And those words shatter me. I was headed in that direction anyway, but the sadness in her voice when she spoke those words just destroyed me. I burst into body-wracking sobs and Alex hesitantly puts her hand on my back.

But that's not what I want now. I want _her. _I want Alex. I want her arms around me, holding me and loving me. I want her telling me that Jenna is going to pay, and I want to feel safe and secure again. Without warning and much to Alex's surprise, I throw myself against her. I bury my face in my chest and cry harder than I've ever cried before.

I swear I can actually feel Alex's heart swelling right now. "Casey, baby…" she says softly, wrapping her arms around me and rocking me back and forth as I continue to sob. She kisses my head. "Oh, Casey…I've missed holding you like this." Her voice quivers. "Let it all out, baby. You're safe now; you're home, with me. You're in my arms. I won't ever let anyone hurt you ever again. When I find out who did this…I swear I'll make them pay. I promise, Casey. They'll pay."

I had wanted to tell Alex what I could remember about the attack before I revealed the identity of the attacker, but the thought of Jenna being made to pay for destroying my life overpowers everything else. I momentarily cease my crying and pull away from Alex so I can look her in the eyes. She smiles, but her eyes are so sad and lifeless.

"Alex…" I say desperately, my voice small and weak. "It was Jenna."

**Ohhh...Casey revealed it! I know I'm evil to leave it hanging like that. Next chapter Casey will tell Alex everything she remembers about the rape. What do you think will happen? How will Alex react, and will Jenna react when she finds out Casey has broken their deal? Do you think Jenna will get justice? Please review and let me know what you think of the chapter!**

**And yes, Casey has taken the first step, but there's many more to go and it won't be an easy road...  
**


	13. Chapter 13

**I'm pleased with the reaction I got on the last chapter :) Glad so many of you liked it! Here's the next one. I thought Alex's POV was appropriate for this one.  
**

**Alex's POV**

I'm holding my crying wife in my arms right now after days of not being able to hold her. She's confiding in me, telling me her worst secret. It should be a joyous time – I have her back, she's safe and she's still mine.

But it's anything _but _joyous. Casey has just told me that Jenna was the rapist. Jenna…whom I have come into contact with _twice _since it happened. I knew she seemed overly interested in Casey; I should have known something was going on. And now I understand why Casey went off on her at the bar. Had I known this at the time, I would have taken Jenna to the parking lot and made her suffer.

I'm filled with hatred right now – hatred and anger towards Jenna. _She _did this to Casey. She did this to _us._ _No one _touches my Casey – no one. No one hurts her like this. No one makes her feel weak and worthless. Jenna is going to pay for what she did. She's going to pay for the rest of her life.

I'm crying, but trying my hardest to stay under control. Casey needs me to be strong right now; for her. Hearing her heartbroken voice and horrible words is killing me inside, but I have to let her say whatever it is she has to say. She needs to get it out in the open. I can't breakdown right now. I'm the only thing holding Casey together.

Casey starts to sob hard again, and lays her head back on my chest. My heart feels like it's going to shatter into a million pieces and every cry coming from her pierces it. I gently place my hand on her cheek and hold her close to me, planting a kiss to the top of her head.

Somehow I force myself to say, "Casey, baby, it's all right. You can tell me what happened. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

I can feel Casey shake her head against me and in a teary voice she says, "You'll be disgusted…I _can't _tell you."

My heart is completely broken now. It's shattered, and no part of it remains at all. I squeeze Casey as hard as I can.

I feel so selfish right now. Holding Casey in my loving embrace after so long feels right and wonderful, but I know I have no right to enjoy it. This is the worst moment of Casey's – and my – life. It's nothing but selfish for me to enjoy having her in my arms right now, yet I can't help myself.

I'm sobbing right along with Casey, and when she momentarily pulls herself together and raises her head to look at me, the defeat and sadness in her green eyes make me sob that much harder. It's awful to look at. Nothing should make Casey hurt this way.

Yet Jenna has. That bitch has taken my beautiful happy wife and reduced her to this sad, broken and scared woman I'm holding in my arms.

"Alex," Casey says softly, and I gently touch her cheek, wiping away her tears with my thumb and smile at her. "I – I want my ring."

I feel a ping in my destroyed heart at those words. She wants her ring; her wedding ring. I can only sit there and stare at her.

"It was a mistake to take it off," she says, her voice laced with emotions. "I shouldn't have left. I'm so sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was nothing but miserable without you. But I left because I thought you wouldn't want me anymore. I thought if you knew what I allowed Jenna to do, you wouldn't love me. I left because I thought you deserved better." Her eyes tear up again. "But when I saw those post-its, I realized that our love is the only thing I have. And that I need you."

She starts crying again, and I quickly pull her to me once more and let her cry, rocking her back and forth. "It's okay, baby. Just let it all out. You're fine. Don't be ashamed to cry. What do you mean what you _allowed _Jenna to do? You didn't allow her to do anything, Casey. It wasn't your fault. And my love for you will never weaken or stray. You're my wife, Casey, and I'll love you until the end. I promise. No matter what happens." I take one of my hands off Casey and pull her wedding ring out of my back pocket. I've been carrying it on me since she left. "I have your ring here, baby."

Casey lifts her head again and I see her smile a little as I slide her ring back onto its rightful place on her finger. My heart puts itself back together and fills with love the instant I look at it on her hand. It's beautiful, just like she is. And finally back where it belongs.

Casey is looking at it, and runs her thumb over the ring. More tears are sliding down her cheeks as she says, "I felt so empty and lost without this. You have no idea."

My heart clenches. "Yes, I do have an idea. Because that's exactly how I felt without you."

Casey meets my eyes again. It's so painful to see her in so much pain and sorrow that I have to take a deep breath and hold it. Very softly, Casey says, "I'm ready to tell you now."

My entire body stiffens. I desperately want to hear this, but at the same time I'm terrified to hear it. I sit upright as Casey straightens herself up next to me, keeping a hold of my hand but wanting to sit up properly to tell her story.

I watch Casey closely. She's shaking slightly, and is having trouble looking me in the eyes now. It breaks my heart, but I understand her hesitancy. That's it's extremely difficult for her, and she feels ashamed.

She begins somewhat unsteadily. "I – I know it's not rape. She's a woman; women don't rape other women. Technically, it's not possible. So it wasn't – "

I cut her off immediately. "Casey. Did she…" I swallow harshly. "Did she do anything sexual to you without your permission?" Casey nods, and I sigh. "Then that's rape, baby. You know that."

She bites her lip and continues. "The fundraiser had been going well. I was meeting a lot of people, but it was exhausting. Senator Palmer told me to go relax and take a break, so I wandered out onto the balcony. It was cold, so I intended to stay out there only a few minutes. Then Jenna came out."

I feel the hatred rise in me again. Just the mention of her name is evoking it in me. I take another deep breath, anticipating what Casey is going to say.

"I kind of ignored her. Made it clear I came out there to be alone. But you saw how she is…she wouldn't back off. Then when I turned around to go back inside, she kissed me."

My anger has transformed into fury. I want to smash my hand right through the wall. Jenna _kissed _my Casey? How could she do something like that?!

Casey is having a hard time going on, so I put my hand on her back and rub it gently. "It's all right, baby. You can tell me."

Casey looks at me with tear-filled eyes. "I immediately broke the kiss and told her how wrong it was. I didn't kiss her back, Alex!"

She's scared; she thinks I'm going to somehow blame this on her, and that breaks my heart. I smile sympathetically and tell her, "I know, baby. I know you wouldn't. I'm not mad at you."

Casey starts crying again, and lets go of my hand so she can cover her face with her hands. I desperately want to slide over next to her or reach for her again, but I stay where I am, being mindful of how Casey is feeling right now.

"It's so hard, Alex…it's so hard. I'm so ashamed," she sobs, her face still covered with her hands.

It's literally killing me to sit inches from my wife while she falls apart like this. I bite my bottom lip, then I say, "Sweetheart…can I sit next to you? Can I comfort you?"

It feels foreign and wrong to have to ask my wife's permission to sit next to her or touch her, but I know reliving this nightmare has put her in a different mindset than when she found the post-its and that my comfort may be unwelcome right now. I don't want to make her uncomfortable.

Casey nods, dapping at her eyes with her sleeve and when I slide over next to her she lays her head on my shoulder and I put my arm around her back supportively. I can't even describe how wonderful and right it feels to have her close to me like this again.

But I'm no fool – I know that things are still going to be difficult for Casey. I'm aware that it's going to be a while before she is able to be intimate with me again. I desperately miss that part of our lives, but I know I can't push her. I have to be patient and understanding – which is exactly what I'm going to be.

Casey sighs and I find myself threading my fingers through her long red hair, as I've done so many times before. It feels as though it's the most natural thing in the world. She's not speaking right now – she's just taking comfort in me, which is what I want. I know she'll tell me her story when she's ready; I'm not going to prod her.

When Casey finally speaks again, her voice is still emotional but stronger. Maybe it's me next to her that's giving her strength, or maybe it's the ring on her finger. Whatever it may be, I'm thankful for it. I have my wife back.

"After we went back inside, I basically tried to avoid Jenna. I was feeling a little stressed and hadn't had anything to eat or drink, so I got a glass of wine and went to the kitchen. No one was there, but Jenna followed me. I confronted her again and told her she needed to leave me alone, but she was pretty insistent. She kept apologizing to me and finally I went into the bathroom. I left the glass of wine sitting outside the door on some statue…and that's when she drugged it, I guess." Her voice breaks a little. "I was so stupid, Alex! I should have known not to leave my drink unattended!"

She starts to cry again, and I immediately give her a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. "Baby, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known what Jenna would do." Just saying her name fills me with that intense hate once more. I want to break something in the room – anything – to get out my anger and frustration. But of course I don't. I stay seated next to my wife as she tells me about the worst ordeal of her life.

Casey takes a deep breath and continues shakily. "After I came out, Jenna was gone so I grabbed my glass of wine and wandered into the living room. I'd drank maybe about a half the glass – maybe – and I started to feel dizzy and drunk about fifteen minutes later. At first I thought maybe it was because I was drinking on an empty stomach, but then I remembered that I'd had less than half a glass and I knew there was no way that small amount of alcohol was going to have that effect on me. And then – " she takes another deep breath. "And then I woke up in the bed in Senator Palmer's guest room – completely naked. I don't know what happened between me drinking the wine and getting into the guest room. I mean, I've had little flashbacks, but I can't _remember._"

She breaks out in a fit of tears again and I let my own tears flow once more and just hold her. I cry for her, for us, and for the awful secret she's been carrying. I can't even begin to imagine how scary that must have been for her. Waking up in a strange bed naked…my poor baby. I should have been there to prevent it; she never should have suffered through this.

And suddenly I realize something else. The reason she hadn't wanted to come home…she had said she was sick. But when I'd gone out to DC to make sure she was okay, I thought she seemed off. She resisted my affection and seemed to genuinely not want me there. And now I know why.

"God, Alex, I am so sorry!" Casey sobs. "I failed you! I'm supposed to be your wife – faithful to the end – and I let this happen!"

My heart breaks even more – Casey blames herself. It's common with rape victims, but I don't like it one bit. It's not her fault _at all._ And she needs to realize that.

"Sweetheart, this is _not your fault. _You didn't _let _this happen – you had no control over it. You know what those date rape drugs do. They render you helpless. You couldn't have done anything." I close my eyes, blinking back tears. "It's me who owes the apology – this was _my _fault."

Casey's head snaps up. "God no, Alex! You didn't do this!"

"I wasn't there," I told her. "I wasn't there to protect you, as I should have been. I chose to stay and work when I should have gone with you. You're my wife; I shouldn't have missed that fundraiser. It was wrong. If it had been me, you wouldn't have missed it for the world. If had been there, Casey, this wouldn't have happened."

Casey looks away and sniffles. "It's not your fault, Alex. It's mine – and Jenna's."

Another thought occurs to me and it pains me to even have to ask, but I know I have to. "Casey, baby – I know you can't remember the rape. And I hate to ask you this – but are you _sure _it was Jenna?"

The question seems painful for Casey, but she knows why I'm asking. She nods her head and looks at me. "It was her. I knew I was…assaulted as soon as I came to. I was sore between my legs and there was a small amount of blood, so…Jenna had been rough…"

I have to close my eyes and look away from her. It hurts so much to hear that. As if raping Casey wasn't enough, Jenna had to _hurt _her too.

"I was so sick – I was shaking and vomiting. After effects of the drug. There was a note on the door from Senator Palmer asking me to come in early to work on Monday. I quickly dressed and made my way back to the hotel. The first thing I did was take a shower. I knew I shouldn't have. I knew I should have gone to the hospital and had evidence collected, but Alex, I was so ashamed! I didn't want anyone to see me like that. And my attacker was a woman. What would they have said to me at the hospital? Women don't rape other women."

I squeeze Casey again. "Casey, I already told you – rape is rape. Woman, man – it doesn't matter. You were abused sexually, without your permission." God, it's hard to say that referring to Casey. "That's rape, Casey. No matter how it was done. It's very serious." Casey is looking away from me again so I ask softly, "Sweetie, you said you are sure it was Jenna? Did you see her in flashbacks? Is that how you know?"

Casey nods. "Yes, I have seen her in flashbacks. But that's not _how _I know. I knew it was her; I just knew it. I confronted her at work, and she freely admitted to it. As if she was proud. She told me – " Casey stops and swallows harshly. "She told me she 'did' me on the floor. Like I was some kind of toy and it was all a game to her."

I was angry before, but now I'm downright _furious. _I can feel my face growing hotter with every word Casey says. I hate Jenna – detest her, actually. How _dare_ she do this to Casey, and talk about her as if she's an object? To talk proudly of what she did to such a sweet, caring woman?

It's getting increasingly difficult for Casey, so I gently encourage her to go on. "Casey, honey, it's okay. Keep going. I'm here."

She takes a deep breath and goes on. "I was so angry – I wanted to call the police and have her hauled away. But I was deeply ashamed. And she told me that – " she stops again, shaking her head.

"What, baby?" I coax gently, squeezing her again. "She told you what?"

"She told me that if I told anyone she…" she struggles with the word and then gulps before she finally says it, "_raped _me, she would make our lives miserable. She said she would call you and tell you that we'd been having an affair every time I went out to DC. She said she would rip apart our lives. And I know it was wrong, Alex, but I believed her. I was so scared. So I kept quiet."

I can't believe what I'm hearing – Jenna has been blackmailing Casey all this time. Casey has been keeping this secret out of shame and fear of what Jenna is going to do to us. And how could Casey think for even a second that I'd believe Jenna's story about an affair?

"Casey," I say gently, holding Casey's head out so she's looking into my teary eyes. "I understand why you kept the secret. But I want you to know that I never would have believed her. I know you would never cheat on me, Casey. So don't be afraid for one second that I would believe her."

Casey is crying again, and when her tears finally stop flowing, she says sadly, "But she could still ruin us, Alex. She could tell the papers, or the news…and everyone would think I was unfaithful. It would reflect badly on you, professionally and personally."

That is the last thing I care about right now. I don't give a shit about my job or the public perception of me – all that matters right now is my wife, my Casey. Nothing else.

"I don't care about that," I tell Casey honestly. "She can say whatever she wants – but we know the truth. And she's a rapist – everyone will know what kind of person she is when she goes on trial and they will know none of her lies were true."

"I have no evidence against her," Casey sobs. "Her confession is hearsay; there were no witnesses to it. I didn't have a rape kit done. There is no case, Alex, and you know it. She'll get away with it."

I know she's right, but now is not the time to discuss that. Now is the time for Casey to get everything out, and for me to comfort her. We can deal with Jenna later. But right now, Casey needs me.

So I make that clear. "Baby, let's not talk about that right now. Tell me more. Did Jenna say anything to you after her confession?"

Casey nods. "It was unbearable working with her. That day you came to see me when I was rude to you and said I didn't want to get lunch…I'm so sorry about that. But after you left, Jenna came to the office. She was taunting me, telling me about how I'd begged her to stop when she was raping me but she kept going…and then implied that I probably liked it." She gets choked up, and I feel so angry I could actually burst. "And then she started talking about how hot you are, and how she wished she had 'done' you instead. I was so angry, Alex. I'd never felt anything like that…I could have killed her at that moment, without a second thought."

I should be appalled, but I'm not. I can completely understand, because that's exactly what I'm feeling right now. I could rip out Jenna's heart and make her hurt the way my Casey is hurting right now, and I wouldn't even care. I'd _laugh _at her. That's how much I hate her.

"That's why I snapped at the bar. She was acting so friendly and cheerful, as if nothing had happened. I – I couldn't take it. I'm sorry."

I've never hurt this badly in the emotional sense in my life. I feel every emotion possible – fear, uncertainly, love, anger, hate. My heart is broken that my beautiful wife is suffering so much.

I hug Casey again and kiss her head. "No apology is necessary, honey. I understand. I wish you would have told me all this sooner, but I understand why you didn't. But - " I make Casey look at me again. "You know that I love you, right? You know that I'll never stop loving you? Those post-its are true, Casey. This doesn't make me love you any less. I'm yours, until the end. And you're mine."

Casey grips my hand tightly and frantically looks into my eyes. "So you're not mad at me?" she asks, in a voice so timid that it shatters my heart even more.

I break down and hug Casey to my chest again. "Oh baby, of course not! I am not mad in the least bit! You did nothing wrong. And I'm not mad at you for leaving me, either. It tore my heart out, but I understand. You did what you had to do. And we're together now, and we're going to move forward together. That's all that matters."

We both cling to each other and cry for what seems like hours, until Casey peers up at me with teary eyes once again and asks, "What happens now?"

"What happens now is I take a couple days off work to help you through this. We go to Washington and file charges against Jenna. It will be a hard fight, but I refuse to let her get away with what she did to you."

I can tell Casey has her doubts, but I pull her against my chest before she can say anything. "But tonight – tonight we have each other. We'll stay here, in each other's arms for tonight. And then face the world tomorrow."

It sounds perfect to me – I have my Casey. I'm going to try and fix this for her. The world can wait.

**There it is - the confession is out. Alex knows everything. What do you think is going to happen now? Can they build a case at all against Jenna? Will Casey be able to handle a trial? What will Jenna do in retaliation? Please review and let me know what you think!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry it took so long for the update; I have a lot going on in my life right now. As usual, thanks to my loyal readers/reviewers, and I think you will like this one :)  
**

**Casey's POV**

I wake up in Alex's arms, both of us on the couch in the basement. I wasn't even aware that I'd fallen asleep. The last thing I remember is the awful confession to Alex, and crying more than I thought was humanly possible.

My secret is out now – Alex knows. She knows every detail, every emotion. She knows it was Jenna. There's no taking it back now. I can't un-tell her or pretend it never happened.

A chill goes through me. I have no doubt that Alex loves me, and those post-its really convinced me to open up to her, but at the same time I'm terrified about this whole ordeal. No matter what Alex says, there is no way she will be able to ever look at me the same way again. How could she? She knows I'm a victim now. As much as I've tried to deny it…I know I can't anymore.

My neck is stiff from the odd sleeping position against Alex's chest so I raise my head slowly to find Alex with her head leaned back against the cushion and her eyes closed tightly. Her mouth is slightly open, and her arms are holding me tightly, as if she had been afraid that I'd slip away from her. Maybe she was.

The sight of my wife sleeping so beautifully and innocent brings a smile to my face and I maneuver my arm so I can look at my watch without waking her. It's a little after six AM. We slept all night. Alex has to be up for work. And Blaze probably needs to go out.

It's been so long since I've been able to wake my wife in the morning. It feels awkward and I feel terribly out of practice. Normally I'd kiss her or choose another sweet and affectionate way of waking her. But I don't yet feel comfortable enough to do that again. I don't feel I have earned it yet.

So I clear my throat and disentangle myself from Alex's arms. "Alex…it's after six," I call gently, not wanting to speak loudly and jolt her awake.

Alex starts to twitch, then opens her eyes slowly, blinking several times. Once she's focused on me, she straightens her head and rubs her neck. I'm sure it's sore, just as mine is.

I'm sitting a few inches from Alex now, feeling a bit uncomfortable. The thermostat for the basement must be turned down, because goosebumps have sprang to life on my arms. It's either from the cold or my nerves.

It takes Alex a moment to come to. She yawns a couple times and smiles at me. "Wow…I didn't mean to fall asleep."

I shake my head. "Neither did I."

She stares hard at me and the memories of the night before come flooding back to her. I have to avoid her gaze. I feel so vulnerable and exposed now.

"Are you…all right?" Alex asks tentatively.

I give her my best artificial smile and nod. "I'm okay." I stand quickly; avoidance is going to be my best tactic now. "I'll go make breakfast and put Blaze out. You'd better get moving or you'll be late for work."

Alex catches my arm before I even get two feet and spins me around to look at her. "Casey," she says sternly, demanding my attention. "I told you last night that I'm taking a couple days off. We need to deal with Jenna."

The name sends a wave of panic through me. The panic is even more real now because I know her name isn't benign anymore; her evilness has been exposed. Alex knows the power behind the words she's speaking.

I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear and manage a nervous, "What are we supposed to do about her?"

"You know the answer to that, Casey. We're going to file charges. We're going to Washington today and we're going to speak with Senator Palmer and then you're going to file charges."

She says it as if I have no choice, and my head quickly snaps up as I'm filled with dread. The last thing I want to do to is talk to Senator Palmer about this. It's humiliating. And what good is filing charges going to do? I have no evidence, and it's my word against hers.

"Alex, no…I don't want to," I quickly say.

Alex nods, as if anticipating that answer. Her expression softens and she gently strokes the scar on my cheek. "I know you don't, baby. But we can't let Jenna get away with raping you; she has to pay. And Senator Palmer needs to know what she's done; maybe he can help us. I'll be right there with you the whole time, Casey; you don't have to do this alone. We'll talk to the police and Senator Palmer together, and I'll meet with the DA to make sure the case is handled appropriately."

That almost makes me smile. I pity the poor Washington DC District Attorney. He or she isn't going to want to file charges due to lack of evidence or witnesses, and Alex will practically tear their head off. I can just imagine her sitting in their office ranting and raving about justice and the importance of not letting someone like Jenna walk away from her crime. I can picture Alex shifting into full Ice Queen mode and frosting up the entire office until the DA relents. But maybe it won't be as bad as all that – maybe as a fellow District Attorney, Alex can convince he or she to do the right thing. Maybe.

But as much as I want Jenna to pay and suffer, a large part of me wants to do nothing. I want to try and move on with my life and focus on my relationship and future with Alex and just forget about Jenna. I want to try and return to normalcy and be able to intimate with my wife again. That's all I want.

If the DA decides to file charges, I have no doubt that Jenna's attorney would tell her to plead not guilty and she'd be released on bail until the trial. As unstable as she is, I shudder to think of what she might try to do to Alex or me. I know for sure she had been serious about trying to ruin our lives. This will hit the press immediately given that Alex is Manhattan's DA, and Jenna will spew her false side of the story. My name will be dragged through the mud and me and Alex's marriage will be dissected by the entire city. We'll be tabloid fodder for weeks.

And a trial…how would I be able to handle that? The prosecution would put me on the stand for sure, and I'll have to tell my nightmare to a jury and a courtroom of strangers, just as I've made so many others do in the past. Jenna's attorney will no doubt tear my story apart in their cross-examination and I'll be even more exposed than I am right now.

But maybe this is what I deserve, for doing it to so many other victims during my tenure as ADA. I made others suffer; now it's my turn. Karma's a bitch.

"Casey," Alex says again. "I know you are scared. But you're strong enough to handle this, and you won't be alone. I won't leave your side; I promise."

I hate how easily I cry now. Any little thing sets me off. I look at the carpeted floor and let my tears come freely, completely ashamed. Why can't Alex's words be true – why can't I go back to being the strong Casey I used to be? The Casey that would speak without thinking and wouldn't let anyone intimidate her? That Casey would never be afraid of someone like Jenna, and she would never let herself break down like this.

I want to be her again. I hate this new weak person that I am.

Alex moves next to me and very tentatively slides her arm around me. When I don't jump away or freak out, she relaxes and pulls me against her. I'm sobbing harder now and Alex says, "It's okay, baby – let it all out. It's all right to be scared. But I want you to know that no matter what Jenna says, she's not going to destroy us. I know every word she says is a lie. I won't believe her for a second."

"But everyone else is going to think – " I start.

"Who cares what everyone else thinks?" Alex fires back, squeezing me tighter against her. "I used to care. I used to care _too _much. Do you remember that? It was you who taught me that the opinions of others don't matter – it only matters what we think of ourselves. In our hearts we know the truth, and even if no one else believes us, _we_ know, Casey. We know our hearts belong only to each other and that nothing can break us up." I pick up Casey's hand and hold my wedding ring against hers. "We have these rings, and these rings mean we're the only two members of the most exclusive club in the world."

I'm about to respond when suddenly Alex starts walking me over to the corkboard. Some of the post-it notes have fallen down onto the carpet, but most still remain. Alex stands me in front of the board and points at it. "Every word I wrote is true, Casey. Nothing in this world could make me stop loving you – nothing. I know you feel ashamed of what Jenna has done to you, and I understand that. It's my job as your wife to help you move past it, and I will. We're together in this, baby."

I lean my head against Alex and nod, staring at the beautifully written post-it notes on the corkboard. Alex went to all that trouble to write them, pouring out her heart into each one, just because she loves me. I can feel the love radiating off her, and jumping out from her careful handwritten notes. And despite the awful feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach, I feel love. Deep, true love. And I suddenly realize that my wife is right – it may take a while, but we _will_ get through this together.

* * *

The first thing we do when we get to DC is check in to a hotel. It's the same hotel I used to stay at when I'd come to DC on Mondays for work. Being back here again is causing a flood of memories to return.

I sit on the bed as Alex goes into the bathroom. I have no idea what to say or do. As soon as Alex comes out of that bathroom, we are going to the police station so I can file a police report. Just the very thought of having to talk to someone other than Alex about what happened makes me feel sick. And I can feel a dull ache in my head, signaling a migraine will be hitting me soon.

My mind wanders to the last time I was at this hotel. I was confused and scared about the night before, I was sick from the drug that had been slipped into my wine, and I had been thinking about Alex and how disappointed she was going to be in me. It was certainly one of the worst days of my life.

And I have a feeling this one will be too.

I sit there staring blankly at the wall tortured by my worried thoughts until Alex emerges from the bathroom. She immediately gives me a smile and comes over to sit on the bed beside me, placing a hand on my knee.

"You okay, baby?" she asks gently, brushing my hair off my forehead and giving me a kiss.

I nod and manage a small return smile. "I'm okay…I'm just scared. It isn't going to be easy to file a police report."

"I know, sweetie. But I'll be there with you. And I was thinking – we should go see Senator Palmer before we go to the police. Let him know about Jenna," Alex says, looking me in the eyes and never once losing my gaze.

That suggestion terrifies me. "I could never talk to him about this!" The very thought of re-living what Jenna did to me to Senator Palmer makes me want to vomit. I couldn't handle it.

"Of course not," Alex says gently, rubbing my back. "That's not what I meant; you don't have to tell him the details. But he needs to know that Jenna is guilty so he can fire her. He needs to know before she is arrested."

I swallow harshly, my nerves completely overtaking me. I know Alex is right, but I can't stop thinking about what Palmer is going to think when he finds out. Will he feel responsible, like Alex does? And what if doesn't believe me, and takes Jenna's side? So much could go wrong…

"I know it's scary," Alex says warmly, giving me another kiss. "It's the scariest thing in the world, isn't it?" I look away from her and nod. "Aww, sweetheart…" I can hear emotion is Alex's voice and she holds my hand gently. "How about I go talk to him, then? You stay here and I'll come get you when I'm done, and we'll go take care of that police report? Would that be easier for you?"

That would make me look like a complete coward. I know this, but yet I find myself wanting Alex to do it for me. I want her to take care of all of it for me so I can lie in bed here in the hotel room curled up like a ball under the covers on the bed. I'm not only a coward, but I'm pathetic as well.

And then a thought occurs to me – Jenna will probably be at his office. The thought fills me with dread and fear. I know I can't face her again. It's bad enough I'll have to face her in court; there's no way I can do it now too.

I actually start shaking as I think about having to sit on the witness stand, and Alex immediately puts her arms around me and holds me close to her. "You're okay, Casey," she assures me. "I promise you."

I try to think of something – anything – to say. I refuse to shed anymore tears. All I've been doing since yesterday is crying. I won't let Jenna be responsible for anymore tears. But I know if I say anything about the rape, or Jenna, or about what Alex is going to do, the waterworks will start again.

So I decide to change the subject. Alex won't fall for it, but it will at least buy me a few minutes. "Do you think Renee and Olivia will take good care of Harrison and Blaze?"

Alex sighs. As suspected, she's not about to allow my subject change. "Casey, the animals will be fine with Liv and Renee. Don't worry about them. This is about _you_."

As much as I love Alex, I'm suddenly very uncomfortable. I pull myself out of her arms and get up off the bed angrily. "But I don't _want _it to be about me!"

And that's certainly true – I _don't. _This should be about someone else. We should be cuddled on our couch right now, watching this on the evening news or as some bad _Lifetime _movie. But it should not apply to our reality. It's painful and unfair.

I'm facing the wall so Alex can't see me nearly break down, but I hear her get off the bed and within seconds she's standing by my side with her arm snaked around my back. I sneak a look at her, and the sadness and worry I see on her face completely breaks my attempt at holding myself together. I hate what this is doing to my wife. I shamefully let the tears fall again, and Alex simply hugs me and guides me back down to the bed.

Once the current barrage of tears have dried up, Alex looks into my eyes and offers me her beautiful smile. Her look is adoring and she says, "You are so beautiful, baby. In every way."

That makes me feel worse and I have to look away from her to the beige carpet.

Alex puts her finger under my chin and forces me to look at her. Her eyes are watery and she's wearing a very stern expression. "I said you are beautiful, Casey. And I meant it. You're beautiful, intelligent, compassionate and overall amazing. I don't know what I'd do without you. When you were gone, I nearly died inside. It was awful. And now that you're back, I feel like 'me' again. I know this is a very hard time and it's going to get harder, but I wish you'd believe me when I tell you it's going to be okay and I'll be here for you."

"I do believe you," I tell her, getting lost in her beautiful blue eyes. "But you don't know Jenna. You don't know what she's capable of." When I think about it, my body goes rigid with fear. "I really don't want to pursue the case. Can't we just go home?"

Alex shakes her head. "No – we can't. Jenna can't get away with what she did." She gives me a kiss and then gets up off the bed and slips her jacket on. "I'm going to go see Senator Palmer. I won't take long, and then we'll go file the police report. Okay?"

All I can do is swallow my fear and look up at Alex, nodding uneasily. I know I have no choice but to go along with her.

She smiles at me and can't resist one more kiss. Usually her kisses calm me, but I'm still feeling sick and frightened when she pulls away. Then an odd look crosses Alex's pretty face. "You won't…" she searches for the right words. "You won't _go _while I'm gone, will you?"

I sadly realize she's being serious. She's actually afraid that I'm going to run away again. I almost start crying at the way she's looking at me so sadly. But instead I bite my lip and shake my head. "No…I promise I'll still be here when you get back."

Alex seems satisfied with that and before she slips out the door, she leaves me with, "I love you."

* * *

**Alex's POV**

By the time I reach Senator Palmer's office, I have in mind exactly what I want to say.

I figure I'll have to wait to see him, but I'll make it perfectly clear that this is an important matter which cannot wait. I'm going over every possible scenario in my head as I enter his office and am greeted by the friendly blonde at the front desk.

She seems to know who I am, because she smiles and says, "Mrs. Cabot! How wonderful to see you! What can I help you with?"

I'm about to execute the first part of the plan, when something I hadn't anticipated happens – I look to my left and see Jenna at a file cabinet. She's oblivious to me, and looking down at a file in her hand as if she's the most innocent woman in the world.

My blood runs cold and suddenly all I want is vengeance. I'm feeling some of that anger that Casey showed, and I'm about to give into it. All I want is to make Jenna suffer the way my wife is suffering.

Without another word to the blonde, I quickly make my way over to where Jenna is standing. I've started to shake and it's taking everything I have not to slam her into the wall the way Casey had done at the bar. I completely understand what happened now; I feel the same rage she felt, and that burning desire for revenge.

Jenna looks up at the last second, just as I've reached her, and she takes a step back and blinks several times. "Alex – " she spits out in surprise. "So nice to see you. Is Casey with you?"

Hearing Jenna dare to speak my Casey's name pushes me over the edge. I raise my hand and slap Jenna across the face as hard as I can, so hard that you can actually hear the palm of my hand connect with her flesh.

Jenna stumbles back in surprise, and I look at her in disbelief and hold my hand. My palm actually hurts. I've never hit anyone before.

Jenna has her hand pressed against her cheek, and suddenly the blonde from the front desk and two other staffers are at her side, asking her if she's okay and looking at me as I'm some type of evil villain.

A switch has been pushed inside of me; I'm pure anger now. "Get away from her," I demand. "She doesn't deserve your sympathy."

I have four sets of eyes on me as Jenna takes her hand away from her face. Her cheek is red from my strike, and that actually puts a smile on my face. Good – I hope it hurts.

"You are a piece of garbage, Jenna!" I shout at her, completely ignoring our audience. "How could you do that to Casey?"

I don't dare say what she's done, as much as I want to. Revealing it in front of her fellow staffers could be bad for Casey. But I don't have to say it – she knows what she's done.

First she looks surprised, then her expression changes to amusement and she smiles. "What did Casey tell you?"

I clench my fists together to keep from striking the bitch again. "She told me the truth."

Jenna cocks her head innocently. "I'm sure she did. I'm sure she told you exactly what you wanted to hear."

Rage flares up inside me again. "You think I _wanted _to hear that?! You think I wanted to hear that Casey had something so horrible done to her?"

Jenna smiles again. "So horrible? Is that what she called it?"

She takes a step towards me, waving off her fellow staffers. They step away hesitantly, but keep their eyes on the cat fight unfolding in front of them. I'm in complete shock that she would _dare_ approach me.

"Your precious Casey is a liar. I know what she told you, and she's lying." She closes the inch that separates us and holds her face close to mine and I have to fight the urge to pummel her some more. "Anything that happened between us was initiated by her. Every time she came out to Washington, we go together in her hotel room. We were having an affair, Alex. Poor Casey was starved for attention; her District Attorney wife was always too busy for her." She smirks. "I gave her what she wanted and needed."

Something inside me snaps, and I slap Jenna again. I want to keep hitting her, but I manage to hold back; the last thing I need is to be in jail and have Casey be alone to face this. I hear voices from behind me, and someone says, "Get the Senator and then call security," but I ignore it.

Jenna is holding her cheek again, that smirk still on her face. I am so angry that I'm speaking from between clenched teeth as I stare into her menacing eyes. "If you think for one second that I believe any of that filth coming out of your mouth, you're dead wrong. I know what you did, and you're going to pay for it."

Before Jenna can respond, someone calls my name from behind me. I turn around to see Senator Palmer approaching me, a confused expression on his face. He's dressed in his usual Senatorial garb and he marches right up to us, fully prepared to break up the fight.

"What is going on here?" he demands, as Jenna and I stare each other down. He looks at us both. "Jenna? Alex? Can someone shed some light on what I just saw?"

"Senator Palmer, security is on their way," the blonde says, eying me uneasily.

"We don't need them, thanks," he says quickly, turning his attention to me and only me. "What's going on?"

I look past at him at Jenna, who is still wearing that stupid smirk. "This needs to be a private conversation," I tell him.

His eyes go to Jenna, and then he nods. "Very well – my office."

I start to follow him, and as I look one more time at Jenna, I notice she looks a little nervous. And I smile from the first time since I entered the building.

**What do you think? Alex hit Jenna _twice_! Do you think Senator Palmer will believe Casey...or Jenna? In the next chapter, you meet Jenna's defense attorney. Prepare yourselves. **


	15. Chapter 15

**So sorry for the delay in updating! My life has been VERY hectic and I have not had much time to write. But it won't happen again. I'm back on the story, and working on another as well which will be up soon. Hope you enjoy the update!**

Senator Palmer tells me to take a seat. I'm so emotional and angry that I'm actually trembling. Seeing Jenna's smug face and knowing what she did to my Casey…I've never been angrier in my life.

"Do you want to tell me what that was all about?" he asks, taking a seat behind his desk.

I know I should bring this up in a diplomatic way. It's a delicate situation that requires delicate discussion. But I'm so worked up and the anger is pulsating through my veins at such a high speed that I find myself just coming out with it - "Jenna was the one who raped Casey."

It takes a moment for Palmer to respond. He lets the words sink in, realization hits him, and he looks at me with the most shocked face I have ever seen on another person and then utters, "What?"

"It was Jenna," I repeat, with more venom dripping from my voice this time.

It takes Palmer a moment to recover from my words. His surprise disappears and is replaced with pure anger. "You're sure?"

"Yes," I tell him. "Casey confronted her. She owned up to it and threatened to tell everyone that they had been having an affair if she told anyone. That's why Casey kept it from me. She didn't want me to be subjected to that bad publicity. She didn't want Jenna to ruin our lives. But I'll tell you - I could care less about publicity! I don't care what Jenna says. She _raped _Casey. She violated her in the worst way possible. She deserves to pay."

Palmer doesn't respond. Instead he gets up out of his chair and heads for the door. It's pretty clear what he's going to do, so I get up and follow him, determined to stop him from doing something regrettable just as he stopped me.

Jenna has her back to the door and she's busying herself with something near the file cabinet. I cannot believe she could just go back work so casually after our confrontation. Just goes to prove how psycho she really is. I can feel sets of eyes on me as I follow Palmer to where Jenna is standing.

He reaches out and grabs her by the shoulder, spinning her around. Jenna's eyes go wide in shock as she finds herself face-to-face with the angry Senator. She blinks several times in disbelief.

"How could you do such a thing?!" he spits out, gripping Jenna's shirt angrily. "How could you do that to Casey?"

Jenna quickly shifts into defensive mode. "I didn't do anything….Casey is a liar. She needs help."

Something inside of me snaps again. I can't stop myself - I step forward and slap her across the face once more. This time Palmer doesn't stop me. His grip loosens on her shirt but he makes no attempt to try and calm me. I watch him take several deep breaths to steady himself before he speaks again.

Jenna has her hand pressed to her stinging cheek and is glaring at me. "I'm going to hang your ass for assault."

"Go ahead," I tell her, locking my eyes on hers. "Go right ahead. But know that you're going to pay for what you did. You won't get away with it. You raped Casey. You made her feel like she was nothing! That won't go without punishment. As soon as I leave here, we're going to go file a police report. You're going to jail - make no mistake about that."

I'm aware of the presence of the other staffers and I suddenly realize that this is no longer a private matter, but I don't care. Soon everyone will know what Jenna did anyway. May was well start with the people she works with. They need to know what a monster she is.

"And I'm going to work with Alex to make sure that happens," Palmer adds. "In the meantime - pack your things and leave. You're fired. I want you gone in the next half hour."

I find myself smiling at that. It's a small victory.

Jenna is staring at Palmer as if she is amused. Then she cocks her head to the side and says, "You're firing me? Over _this_?"

"You committed a crime, Jenna. You know the policy of this office."

She doesn't waste a beat. "That's wrongful discharge, Senator. I'm innocent. I've only been _accused _of a crime. As an American citizen, I have the right to a trial. And let me assure you that I won't need one. I'm confident that after Casey files her little police report, the police will find insufficient evidence to move forward with charges. The only thing that will come of this is that all of New York will find out that Casey Novak is a delusional liar who engages in infidelity."

The anger boiling inside of me boils over and I make a desperate attempt to go at her once more. This time I'm determined to knock her on her ass. I've never wanted anything more. I can't listen to those words - to those _lies _- about my Casey anymore. Jenna knows exactly what she's done. She is the smuggest person I have ever known.

Before I have a chance to lay her out, Palmer has grabbed me and is restraining me. "Alex! Stop! I know how much you want to do this…I do too. But you can't. Think of Casey. She needs you. She needs you with her, not in jail."

I relax a little, but anger is still on the surface. I fight against Palmer a few more times, but he holds onto me tightly. "She needs you, Alex. Casey needs you."

And I know his words are true. Casey _does _need me. So I swallow my rage and force myself to act calmly and rationally. Jenna looks as if she's just won the lottery; she's taking a lot of pleasure in watching me fall apart.

Palmer returns his attention to Jenna. "Get the fuck out - _now_."

This time Jenna laughs bitterly and sits down the file she was holding. "As you wish, Senator. But I'll have my job back. And Miss Cabot here will be charged with assault." Her eyes move around the office to the sets of eyes on us. "I have several witnesses to her attack on me. And Casey can very much expect a civil suit if she drags me my name through the mud. Casey mad a choice at that party. She was drunk – and there are several people who will attest to that. Your girl isn't so innocent, Alex."

I stand in silence as I watch Jenna gather her purse and a few items from her desk. She turns around and flashes us a smile and wave before exiting the office.

And in that moment I realize that she's right. Even though Jenna is guilty, there will be no evidence to support Casey's claims. It will be very difficult to convince the DC District Attorney to move forward with a case, even with the Senator's help. And she does have me on assault. I know I can get out of it, but it's an extra inconvenience we don't need. Especially since she's going to use the affair angle.

As I watch the doors swing closed behind her, I know we're in a lot of trouble.

* * *

**Casey's POV**

I'm lying on the bed on my back watching some mindless sitcom re-run when I hear the keycard slide across the lock and the hotel room door open.

I know without turning my head to look at the door that it's Alex. She's returning from fighting my battle for me.

Sure enough she drops her purse into the nearby chair and wastes no time sitting down on the bed and pressing a kiss to my forehead. "How you doing, baby?"

I force myself to turn and look at her. Her blue eyes are filled with so much love and concern for me. My heart aches because I know she loves me more than anything else in this world, and I know what this is doing to her. Me being so upset and the knowledge of what happened to me is killing her.

I intertwine my fingers with hers, which causes her to look at our hands and smile lightly. "I'm okay. How did it go?"

Alex sighs and smoothes the hair back off my forehead. "I told Senator Palmer." I immediately feel ashamed and turn my head away, but Alex puts her finger under my chin and forces me to look at her again. "He believed me, Casey. He cares about you."

I know she's telling the truth. I can read it in her eyes. "What did he say?"

"He went out and grabbed Jenna's shirt and fired her. "

I close my eyes and relief instantly fills me. I had no doubt he would be believe it, but…it's still hard to deal with. My former boss knowing what was done to me in his house. It's humiliating. I don't know how I can ever face him again.

I'm staring at the flowered bedspread again as Alex kicks off her shoes and lies down next to me. Without any type of invitation I rest my head on her chest and she tightens her arm around me and begins playing with my hair. It feels so good to be close to her like this again. I feel safe and loved. This is my favorite place in the world. I know it's going to take a little while before we can be totally intimate again, but I also know that my wife will be patient with me and will help me every step of the way.

We lie there in silence for several seconds before Alex shatters it with, "I hit her."

I couldn't have heard her correctly. I actually raise my head and look at her. "What?"

A smile plays at Alex's lips. "I hit Jenna. At least three times. I wanted to just pound the life out of here, but Senator Palmer stopped me. I was just – so angry. I hate her so much."

Alex is the last person I'd ever expect would lose her cool and strike someone. The words shock me. "Alex, you – I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have let you go there. You didn't deserve to have to face Jenna. You shouldn't have to fight my battles for me."

Alex sighs again and pushes herself into a sitting position so we're face to face. I look away from her in shame again. "Casey – look at me." I do as she instructs and she picks up my hand, outlining my wedding ring with her thumb. "You mean the world to me, baby. You aren't just my wife – you're my soul mate, my best friend, my life, the air I breathe…I'd do anything for you. When you were gone it damn near destroyed me, and now that you're back I'll do absolutely anything that is needed to keep you here. I'll be honest – part of me was afraid you'd be gone when I got back, even though you promised you wouldn't leave. And then when I saw you were still here…I knew it meant I have you back for sure. When we took those vows, we said 'for better or for worse'. This is 'worse' right now, but it isn't always going to be this way." Alex is rubbing comforting circles on my back now and pulls me against her and holds me there. "I promise, sweetheart. We'll get through this. Baby steps. That's what we have to take. It's my job to fight your battles. I know you'd fight mine. If this happened to me, wouldn't you fight for me?"

I completely understand Alex's words. I try and imagine her in my place, and I know she's right. I would do anything in the world to get her through such a hard time. I would have done worse things to her rapist than hit them. I would have _killed _them.

I feel tears rising up inside me and all I can do is nod at my wife. I hate being emotional like this. I'm trying hard not to start crying, but I fail miserably and soon I'm sobbing onto Alex's shoulder while she continues to rub my back and tells me she loves me.

"It's going to be okay. No matter what Jenna says, no matter what lies she tries to spread – _we_ know the truth. Everyone who cares about you knows. She's been fired, and she's going to pay for hurting you so badly."

Again my mind is thinking about how difficult it's going to be to make her pay. I get my sobbing under control and manage to squeak out, "How, Alex? I didn't report it. I washed away all the evidence. I - "

Alex puts her finger to my lips to silence me. "Stop, Casey. Stop. Believe we can do this." She squeezes my hand and kisses me deeply. When we break apart, she adds, "Now we have to go talk to the police. Okay?"

"Alex, I don't – "

"Casey," she says sternly, taking both of my hands in hers and locking her eyes on me. "Do you trust me?"

Of course I do. More than I've ever trusted another person on this earth. "Of course I do."

"Okay. Then you have to this. This I cannot do for you. I can be there with you, but I can't be the one who does it. You know that. I'll sit there holding your hand while you give your report. I'll give you support. Okay?"

I've never been so unsure about something in my life, but I nod anyway. "Okay."

* * *

I've never been so uncomfortable in my life. Words have always come naturally to me and speaking in front of others has never bothered me in the least, but right now all I want is to disappear.

I'm sitting at the desk of Officer Jenkin's, gripping Alex's hand and trying to gather my thoughts. It's funny to think of how many times I've been to the precinct at home and never thought twice about it. But being in a different city with unfamiliar officials and being the _victim _certainly puts it in a different perspective.

I've just gotten done giving Officer Jenkin's my information, the date and location of the attack and that I believed I was drugged. That's as far as I've gotten.

"This woman who allegedly raped you – did she take you upstairs, or did you go on your own?"

I know he has to use the word 'allegedly', but it makes me feel doubted and guilty. I shift uncomfortably in my chair.

"I – I think she took me upstairs. Senator Palmer thought I was drunk. Everyone did, really. I think he asked Jenna to take me upstairs so I could sleep it off."

Officer Jenkins raises his eyes with a hint of skepticism. "You _think_?"

I feel a wave of nausea wash over me. I'm blowing this. I can't remember what I need to remember. Everything is too fuzzy and confusing. I start to shake, and Alex puts her hand on my leg to calm me. That gives me a bit of strength.

"I can't remember a lot of the details. It's all fuzzy. I was drugged – that's one of the effects of being drugged. Memories have been coming back to me slowly…like I remember Jenna's voice and her being on top of me…" I have to swallow harshly and suppress my tears. "But I can't remember everything."

Officer Jenkins is writing quickly, and then raises his eyes to me again. "What hospital did you go to when you awoke the next morning? What drug did they find in your system?"

Alex and I exchange glances. I knew I was going to be asked this sooner or later. There's no way to prove you were drugged without a toxicology test, and it's well past the timeframe to get that done now. I made a terrible mistake.

When I don't answer right away, Officer Jenkins asks me again.

I struggle for words. "I – I didn't go to the hospital." He kind of shakes his head and goes back to writing. "I wasn't planning on reporting it. I was so ashamed….I felt like it wasn't rape because it was a woman."

"But it _is _rape," Alex interjects, looking directly at Officer Jenkins. "She took advantage of Casey. She forced herself on her and touched her without her permission. That's rape."

Officer Jenkins gives Alex and unreadable look. "Mrs. Cabot, please. You weren't there. I need to hear this from Casey." His eyes travel back to mine. "I know this is difficult. I'm sorry. But I have some more questions." I nod, and he continues. "Did anyone see her drug you? Did you consume any alcohol at all?"

"I had a glass of wine. _One _glass. I'm not sure I even drank it all." I can read the disbelief on Officer Jenkins face and the panic is starting to rise up inside of me. "I wasn't drunk! I was drugged!"

Alex squeezes my hand. "Shh, baby. We know. It's okay."

Officer Jenkins ignores my outburst. "So one glass of wine. And you believe she drugged your glass of wine when you left it outside the bathroom door?"

I nod, confirming what I told him earlier.

"And as far as you know, no one saw her do it?"

I shake my head. "Not that I'm aware of, no."

"Is it possible you had more to drink than you remember? Sometimes parties can get out of hand, and – "

"No!" I practically scream, actually standing up. I'm getting worked up; it barely takes anything now. I'm so panicked I can't even catch my breath. _He doesn't believe me….he doesn't believe me…._

Alex is up in an instant, her arm around my shoulder. "Baby…sit back down. It's okay." I look at her and she smiles sympathetically. "Honey, please. You know I believe you. Please."

I hesitantly sit back down, for Alex and only Alex. If it weren't for her I wouldn't even be here. I'm only doing this for her.

Alex shoots Officer Jenkins an evil look. "It wasn't exactly a traditional party, officer. It was a political fundraiser. And Casey doesn't get drunk. She isn't that type."

I apologize for losing my composure and Officer Jenkins writes a few more lines before looking at me again. "And you said she kissed you earlier that afternoon, correct? On the balcony?"

I shift again. "Yes. And I made it clear I wasn't interested at all."

More writing, and then. "Did anyone witness that?"

I wrack my brain to try and remember if anyone else was around. But I remember we were out there alone. "No – we were alone on the balcony."

"So you're telling me that there was a houseful of political guests, and you two were alone on the balcony?"

I know how it sounds. It sounds awfully convenient. If I were Officer Jenkins, I'd be doubtful as well. I haven't exactly given him anything to go on. To everyone at the party, I was drunk. No one witnessed Jenna do anything at all. _She_ almost sounds like the victim.

Then Officer Jenkins asks, "Was this the first time you had intercourse with Jenna?"

That's all I can take. All my resolve is gone. "Intercourse?" I echo. "_Intercourse_?" I slam my hands down on the desk, not able to control myself anymore. "It wasn't _intercourse_! She _raped _me! She did me on the floor like I was an animal! Then she left me naked in the bed. I woke up scared and alone." I'm shaking again and this time the tears fall freely. "Is that enough information for you?"

"Mrs. Cabot, I – "

I hold my hand up to silence Officer Jenkins and I hastily grab my coat. Alex is standing beside me, trying to calm me down and get me to take a seat again, but I wave her off as well. "No, Alex," I tell her sternly when she grabs my arm. "I – I can't do this. I know what happened and I can't prove it. Just forget it."

I have my coat on and I'm heading towards the door. Alex is right on my heels. "Casey, we knew this wouldn't be easy. But please – don't walk out of here. We need to – "

Once I reach the door, I spin around to face my wife. "She wins, Alex. It's as simple as that. She wins."

Then I turn away from Alex and walk out of the station.

**What do you think is going to happen? Do they have any type of case at all? Will Jenna come after THEM? Please review and let me know!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Quick update :) I'll try and make the updates every 5-7 days from now on. Sometimes it may be more than 7, but I'll try as hard as I can to stick to 5-7 days. Thanks everyone for your loyalty, and I hope you enjoy!**

"How about we go out to eat tonight?" Alex suggests when we get back to the hotel room.

She's doing everything possible to cheer me up. I barely said a word on the drive back from the police station. I have so much on my mind that I can't keep anything straight.

We have no case against Jenna and I know it. So does Alex, even though she isn't saying it. She has an appointment with the DC District Attorney this afternoon. I don't know what she thinks she can do, even with Senator Palmer's help. Alex has a lot of influence and a way with words, but I don't think even she can salvage this. My Harvard training and years as an ADA tell me that for certain. There were no witnesses to her kissing me, no one saw her attack me, no one saw her drug me, everyone thought I was drunk. There were no witnesses when she admitted what she had done. I showered immediately after the rape and neglected to go to the hospital for a toxicology test. Everything is hearsay and Jenna's word against mine.

No prosecutor in the world would take this case, because they _couldn't _win. I sure as hell wouldn't.

Alex's invitation to dinner is hanging in the air, but I intend to let it hang there. There's no way I feel like going out tonight. All I really feel like doing is curling up in bed and crying about how I ruined our lives.

We have to get home soon anyway. Alex can't take much more time off work; she's already taken so much as it is. All too soon we'll be heading home, back to the publicity and prying eyes this whole situation will bring on. I have a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that Jenna isn't done with us yet. After everything she's done, I can't imagine she could just walk away from this.

I feel used and guilty.

I'm sitting on the bed facing the wall and completely lost in my thoughts when Alex sits down beside me. I don't look at her, but she puts her arm around my back and rubs it gently. "Baby….please don't feel badly about what happened at the police station. It's not your - "

I shrink away from Alex and stand up quickly. I'm not in the mood to be comforted right now. I can't deal with Alex being so sweet and loving. I've screwed up our lives - can't she see that?

"Don't say it's not my fault, Alex. Just _don't._"

I turn away from Alex. I can't bear to see the sad, worried look on her beautiful face. She deserves to be laughing and happy every second of her life. She doesn't deserve to have to clean up her wife's mess and be ensconced in a publicity nightmare that could cost her her career.

"But it isn't your fault, honey."

I close my eyes and try and maintain my calm. I have so many emotions pulsating through me at once that I have no idea which emotion to give into. Alex says my name again, and the sadness and longing in her voice makes the decision for me. I open my eyes slowly and release a couple tears.

"Casey, please - just listen to me. Sit back down and let's talk," Alex pleads. Her voice is dripping with sadness and I can tell she's using a lot of restraint not to get up and throw her arms around me. She's been treating me like I'm made of porcelain this past few days. Maybe that's good.

I spin around and face my wife, ashamed of the tears making their way down my cheeks but also unable to suppress them. I shake my head and attempt to keep my voice steady. "I - I can't talk about it right now, Alex. You have no idea how I feel inside right now." My voice betrays me and begins to quiver, and I nearly break as I watch Alex's expression transform into one of heartbreak as she watches me struggling for words. I dab my eyes with my sleeve angrily, frustrated with myself for not being able to be stronger for Alex. She deserves that much.

Alex has tears to my own now as she says softly, "Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me how you feel. Nothing about how you feel is wrong."

She sounds like a highly-educated therapist right now, which is not what I need at all.

My emotions are making me a mess and I unintentionally lash out at Alex. "Just stop, okay? Just stop. I know you love me, Alex, but you can't help me. I've made this bed and I have to lie in it."

Alex stands now and shakes her head, reaching out for me. I flinch from her touch, but it doesn't stop her. "No, Casey. _Jenna _made this bed. Tomorrow I'm talking to the DA, and - "

"And nothing!" I shout, not able to control myself. "There are _no _ands in this, Alex! There is no version of this where I win. I did everything I wasn't supposed to do. I didn't call the police, I didn't go to the hospital, I showered, I kept what happened a secret…I should have known better. I was a Special Victims ADA for years, Alex. There is no excuse for what I did. No one witnessed anything Jenna did to me. You're wasting your time going to the DA, Alex, and you know it."

Alex doesn't respond right away. She knows I'm right. As much as she loves me - and I know she does - deep down she also knows that this case is hopeless. She looks at me for a long moment, sadness reflecting in her eyes - but she doesn't answer.

And then I know. Words aren't necessary. I can read from the look on her face that she agrees with me. I've let her down.

My heart lurches and I quickly grab my coat from off the bed and hastily put it on. I have to get out of here. Alex doesn't need to see me become so emotional.

"I'm going to go for a walk," I announce quickly, sidestepping Alex and making my way to the door.

"Casey," Alex says quickly, and I notice her eyes shining as she tries to step in my way and block my access to the door. I know she feels as bad as I do. "Please, wait - "

I stop a few inches from the door and turn back around. I'm on the verge of panic and I know it, and I don't want Alex to witness it. I just need to get away.

"I just need to go for a walk. I'll be back, I promise."

"Let me go with you. Please," Alex begs.

But the only response I give her is the hotel room door slamming behind me.

* * *

My walk only lasts about twenty minutes. I get only a few blocks from the hotel when the headache starts.

It's hard to pinpoint exactly what brought it on this time. I've been crying nonstop since I left the hotel, and the stress I have been under has been monumental. I've been getting small headaches here and there, but this one is bad. I can tell that it's going to turn into one of my bad migraines before I even get back to the hotel. The bright sunlight is already making my head feel like it's going to split in half.

I'm not ready to face Alex again. I'm a mess - both physically and mentally. My eyes are red and swollen from crying, my hair is tangled and messy from neglecting it these past couple of days and I feel like I'm going to pass out at any moment. I know I have to go back to our room. Alex will only worry if I stay out too long, especially when she finds out I'm getting one of my migraines.

I had wanted to be alone with my thoughts, not have my wife fussing over me. I have so much to deal with. I owe Alex's parents an apology for how I reacted when we visited the last time. Alex and I have to go home and face the publicity this incident has brought down on us. And who knows what Jenna has up her sleeve now.

Once I reach our hotel room, I find Alex sitting anxiously on the edge of the bed. A look of relief crosses her face when she sees me enter. My heart lurches as I realize she's no doubt been sitting there worrying about me since I've been gone.

"Hi, baby. Do you feel better?" she asks gently. She doesn't get up off the bed, though I can tell she desperately wants to.

I just shake my head, rip off my coat and toss it on the nearby chair, and head immediately for the bathroom. My head is pounding now - all I want is to splash some cold water on my face.

I shut the bathroom door and lean against the sink, breathing heavily and trying to swallow the wave of panic that is washing over me. I raise my eyes to the mirror, and that's when I see it.

A yellow post-it note is sticking right on the mirror, words written in black marker practically jumping right off the paper. And despite everything that is happening, it makes me smile. It says, "_You are my wife, and you are brave and beautiful. I love you" _with a heart drawn around it. Tears fill my eyes as I take it down off the mirror and actually hold it to my chest. I can almost feel the love behind the carefully written words leaping off the small note.

My impending migraine is momentarily forgotten as I clutch the note hard to my chest and let warm tears flow down my cheeks. Then I force myself to face my reflection.

I hate what I see. Not only do I look awful from crying and lack of sleep, but the weakness I see in my eyes makes me turn away in shame. I don't what Alex sees in me. I don't know how she could write those untrue words. I may be a lot of things, but brave and beautiful are _not _among them.

I place the post-it face down on the sink next to me and cover my face with my hands. I've screwed up so badly this time. I'll never forgive myself. I deserve this migraine that's coming on.

"Find something you like?" Alex's gentle, loving voice suddenly startles me.

I spin around quickly to find my beautiful wife leaning against the doorframe, her hair messy and her eyes still reflecting sleep. She looks at the note resting on the edge of the sink and smiles. "It's true you know."

I look down at the note again and then back to Alex. I shake my head lightly. "No it isn't…if I were brave, I wouldn't have run out of the police station the way I did."

Alex shakes her head and takes a step into the bathroom. "It's absolutely true, baby. Every word."

I'm looking at the floor now. Since this whole thing with Jenna, I can't stand receiving a compliment from Alex. I feel inferior, as if I don't deserve her admiration. I still feel dirty and unworthy of Alex's love and affection.

Suddenly Alex is standing right beside me. She gently touches my cheek with her soft hand and says, "Look at me, sweetheart."

I swallow harshly as a fresh set of tears grip me. "I - I can't."

"Yes you can," Alex encourages. "Let me see those green eyes that I love so much."

Somehow I make myself give her what she wants. I look at her, freely letting the tears cascade down my cheeks and silently cursing myself for not being able to be in control of my emotions anymore. I cry way too often and easily now.

I can't even describe the way Alex is looking at me now. She sees the sadness in my eyes and I can actually _see _her heart break for me. Her voice quivers as she says, "Oh, baby - " and without a second thought she wraps her arms around me and holds me close to her.

My first instinct is to get away from her so she doesn't have to suffer along with me, but I can't. It feels to good in her arms. I can smell her sweet flowery perfume as I sob into her shoulder and she rubs my back and talks soothingly to me.

"I know this is hard, Casey. I know. But I'm not going to give up on you. No matter what."

I sob for several more seconds until I pull myself together long enough to pull away from her so I can look into her eyes. She gives me a small, tearful smile and brushes a stray red hair away with her thumb.

"I'm so broken, Alex. I'm sorry," I apologize, angrily wiping my eyes with my sleeve.

"I told you that we're going to get through this and I meant it," she tells me, giving me a gentle kiss on the cheek. "No matter what happens regarding Jenna. I'm going to see the DA tomorrow, but no matter how that turns out, everything will be okay. We'll find someone for you to talk to. I'll write you those notes every goddamn day if I have to until you see how precious and beautiful you are and believe it."

I know Alex means those words. She loves me as much as I love her - of that I have no doubt.

I cling to Alex for several long moments, not able to speak. I have no idea what to say. No words can describe how deeply I hurt inside or how much I love my wife. So I just stand there absorbing the warm feeling radiating from Alex.

My head is pounding so badly now that I'm starting to feel sick. I know I need to lie down. I still clinging to Alex, but more out of necessity now than desire. I feel so weak - from the inside out. And not just from Jenna did to me. My body is drained in every way possible. I haven't been sleeping or eating, really. I've been doing nothing but crying.

Alex is holding me at arm's length now, looking me over. I'm trying not to show that I'm in pain, but suddenly the pounding gets worse and I involuntarily wince. That's all it takes. Alex touches my face. "Casey?"

My head hurts so badly now that I just want to go lie down in the dark and forget this awful stage of my life. I have to squint against the light as I look at Alex again. "My head hurts, Alex," I tell her softly.

She frowns sympathetically, understanding completely. She immediately switches off the bathroom light and places her hand on the middle of my back, leading me out of the bathroom. "Let's get you in bed, baby. I'll get your medicine and turn the lights out before it gets worse."

I sit down on my bed dumbly as Alex closes the shades and hurries over to my gym bag. I watch as she digs through it until she finds my bottle of migraine pills.

I take two of the pills and then get under the covers as Alex turns out the light. I know I don't deserve this relief, but I so desperately crave it that I allow myself to accept it. Once we're bathed in darkness, Alex gets under the covers. Normally she'd slide right over and hold me, but this time she's cautious. I feel her body close to mine but she makes no sudden movements.

Then I hear her voice. "Casey…will you let me hold you?"

I lay there with my back facing her, biting my lip to avoid crying. I would love for her to hold me. Being in her arms is the most wonderful place in the world.

But I can't allow her to do so. It's selfish for me to accept her comfort when I've done so much to complicate our lives.

Alex asks again, and this time a tear slides down my cheek as I prepare to break my wife's heart again. With a shaking voice I say, "Not right now - please."

Alex hesitates a moment. Then I hear her shift and have to hold my breath as her proximity to me greatly decreases as she draws away. Then she says sadly, "I'll be here until you feel better, baby. I love you."

Guilt immediately envelopes me as I close my eyes. I don't deserve Alex. Why does she love me so much?

* * *

**Alex's POV**

_The Hallmark store is always decorated nicely for Christmas. You can smell the Christmas-themed gingerbread scented candles before you even step inside the store. I want use to get some ornaments for our tree that our just __**ours **__and I figure the Hallmark is the perfect place to go look._

_As we're walking towards the storefront, Casey stops in front of a vender booth in the center of the mall. This particular booth appears to be selling winter apparel; I see several types of hats, scarves and various pairs of gloves up for sale._

_I don't really want to be shopping for those kinds of items right now, but since Casey and I insist on walking around hand-in-hand one of the drawbacks to that is that I have to stop when she wants to, and vice-versa. So I bite my tongue and busy myself looking at the world's ugliest pair of fuzzy green gloves while Casey releases my hand and wanders away from me momentarily. _

_I'm about to turn away from the glove display when I hear Casey call my name. I wasn't even aware she had come back up beside me until she speaks practically in my ear. I turn my head to look at her, and what I see causes a huge smile to break out across my face._

_Casey is standing there grinning stupidly at me, wearing a monkey hat on her head. Tassels are hanging down both sides of her face and the monkeys' grin practically mimics her own. The hat is absolutely ridiculous, but Casey looks utterly adorable. I have never seen anything so cute. _

_"Like my hat, Alex?" Casey asks in a joking voice, flipping up one of the tassels with her hand and cocking her head to the side._

_I laugh out loud. "You look ridiculous, but so damn adorable I can't even stand it." _

_She stands there batting her eyelashes at me and flicks one of the tassels. "I think the hat is me. I want it."_

_I laugh and shake my head, and then pull Casey close for a kiss. She kisses me back, one of the tassels hitting me right in the cheek. When we break apart, she's grinning at me. "What was that for?"_

"_Because you're just the cutest, sweetest thing on this planet and I don't know how I got lucky enough for you to be my wife."_

_I have never meant anything more. Of the many things I love about Casey, her playfulness, spontaneity and silliness is right at the top. She's so unique, and unapologetically so. _

_Casey smiles at me and squeezes my hand tightly. "I'm the lucky one." She pauses and looks around at the numerous fellow shoppers. Then she lowers her mouth to my ear and whispers, "And I'll show you how grateful I am for being lucky tonight."_

_A grin breaks out across my face as a million scenarios dance through my mind. "Ohh, I can't wait for that!"_

_Casey starts to laugh when suddenly an irritated voice shatters our special moment. "Excuse me, ladies. If you aren't going to buy that hat, please put it back on the display for someone else to purchase."_

_Casey and I spin around at the same time and see the kiosk manager sitting on a stool, scowling at us. She's a middle-aged, gruff looking woman, and obviously uncomfortable with our display of affection for each other._

_I shoot her one of my best glares as Casey takes the hat off. She gives me a sideways glance and says, "Alex, don't. Let's just go. I don't need the hat."_

_She puts it back on the display and takes a few steps back, but I pick it right back up. I'm staring the kiosk manager down as I take a couple steps forward and drop the hat onto the countertop. We never once break eye contact. Then I say, "My wife wants the hat. How much?" I make sure to emphasis the word 'wife'._

_The woman shoots me another look and then rings up the hat. Without even flashing a smile she tells me the price and I pay her with my credit card. Casey steps up beside me and I make sure to put my arm around her waist and kiss her again while I wait for the transaction to complete._

_The gruff woman practically throws my credit card receipt at me as Casey and I slow inch away from the booth, holding hands and smiling proudly._

_When we get a few feet away, Casey lies her head on my shoulder and says, with a laugh, "You're such a bitch."_

_I laugh back and remove the stupid hat from the plastic bag, reaching up and placing it on Casey's head. She gives me that silly grin again, and I can't resist kissing her once more._

"_I couldn't help it. That woman as a prude. I don't care who knows I love my Casey."_

_Casey stops walking and steps in front of me so I'm looking right at her, never once breaking contact with my hand. Her grin has disappeared and she looks as serious as she can look wearing a monkey hat. I'm actually worried, until she speaks. "And I don't care who knows I love my Alex either." She squeezes my hand. "And I do love her - more than anything else in this world. I'd be lost without her."_

_My heart swells with pride and I kiss my wife again. "You'll never be lost then, baby. I promise."_

I look across the parking garage at the two teenage girls wearing animal hats and smile at the cute, pleasant memory the sight inspires.

I miss the old Casey. The band t-shirt, plaid pajama bottoms, video games, scooter riding and silly hat wearing Casey. The Casey that always smiled and laughed and told me not to take myself or anything too seriously, and practiced exactly what she preached.

Jenna took that Casey away from me. She took her away and replaced her with an empty shell who loathes and blames herself for things that couldn't possibility be her fault. Every time I see how sad she looks, it breaks my heart.

I want to get that Casey back. I'm prepared to do anything to make that happen.

But things aren't looking good right now.

I just make it to the rental car before I burst into tears. I lean against the steering wheel and hit my hand against the dashboard, yelling out loud in frustration at the unfairness of this whole situation.

I just left the office of Christine Whitney - the Washington DC District Attorney - and it did not go well. And what makes it worse is that as soon as I left the office, my assistant called me from Manhattan to let me know that practically every paper and news station in New York has contacted the office, wanting a statement about Casey's alleged 'infidelity'. Apparently Jenna is back in New York, singing from the rooftops that she's been having an affair with the DA's wife, and when it was about to be revealed, Casey falsely cried rape. My assistant asked me point-blank if those allegations were true. I almost hung up on her. How could she even _think _such a thing? I told her I would address the issue when I return home. But how am I going to tell Casey?

Senator Palmer accompanied me to the office today, which I thought would be an asset. Turned out to be more of a liability.

First off, Whitney had a copy of the incomplete police report. She questioned me about everything on it, and then made it clear that she wished to talk to Casey. I made it abundantly clear that Casey was in no shape to answer her questions. I expected understanding and compassion. Instead I got a very strictly-business 'won't waste my time attitude.'

As a fellow DA, I can understand Whitney's position. If a case came before me with no evidence and a victim that was unwilling to meet with me, I wouldn't handle it well either. Rape cases are hard enough to prosecute - they become doubly hard with no witnesses or forensic evidence. Impossible in almost every situation.

But I didn't go into the meeting as DA Cabot. I went into the meeting as Alex, Casey's wife. I tried to appeal to Whitney's compassion as a person and not a prosecutor. She's married with two young boys. I asked her to put herself in my position - what would she do if someone did that to one of her boys?

Her response had been that she understood on a personal level, but on a professional level she was limited as to what she could do. She recommended taking Jenna to civil court. That's when my heart fell down to my feet.

Then Senator Palmer had jumped in and given a very heartfelt diplomatic speech. It sounded like it had been practiced and polished for delivery on the Senate floor. After he concluded, I wanted to stand up and applaud.

Whitney ended the meeting by telling us she would review the case and get back to us.

As much as I want the case to go forward, I also know what a trial would do to Casey. Being on the witness stand having to re-live the most awful experience of her life would destroy her. I don't even know if she could get through it. Her state of mind right now - I don't think she could handle it.

And a defense attorney would rip her apart. He or she would attack Casey's credibility and dredge up the fact that she lied to a judge and as a result lost her license for three years. She would also attack Casey for confessing she was drinking - even though it was only one glass.

I could picture Casey up on the stand reduced to tears in front of the judge, jury and the entire courtroom. It breaks my heart to even think about that.

So I'm torn between wanting justice for Jenna and not wanting my wife to go through a very public and difficult recount of the night Jenna attacked her. My desire for justice and my heart are at odds. And I think my heart is winning.

A knock on the passenger side window startles me. I turn to see Senator Palmer smiling at me. I immediately roll down the window and attempt to hide my tears by wiping them away with the back of my hand. I force a smile and say, "Thanks so much for your efforts here today."

I'm doing a horrible job of keeping it together, but Senator Palmer is kind enough not to point that out. He smiles again. "You're welcome. But I'm afraid I have some bad news."

All the color drains from my face when he says that. "What bad news?"

He looks away from me briefly.

Nothing irritates me more than delaying bad news. "Jesus, just tell me!"

He looks at me again and I can soften a little, realizing this is hard from him too. Then he says, "As soon as you left the office, DA Whitney told me she is declining to file any charges. She says we have her deepest apologies, but there is no case against Jenna." He pauses again. "I'm so sorry, Alex."

**Oh no :( How do you think Casey will take it? And how will they deal with the fallout at home? Do you think Jenna is done with them? Please review and let me know!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thanks for those still reading/reviewing! Here's the next chapter. WARNING - The ending of this chapter is intense...**

On the drive back to the hotel I try to think of the perfect way to break the news to Casey. It's not exactly going to be a surprise. But I know how hard Casey is going to take it.

I decide not to bring up what my assistant told me when she phoned. She doesn't need to think about that right now.

This is the worst thing that has ever happened in my life. Up until now the worst thing I'd ever gone through was when I was in Witness Protection. But this is much worse. This involves the person I love most in this world. This is breaking Casey's heart. And I can't deal with that.

When I get back to our hotel room, I find that Casey is in the shower. There is a half-eaten donut on the table. I smile inwardly; at least she isn't lying in bed. And the fact that she ate even half of a donut is encouraging. She hasn't been eating much of anything lately. A couple days ago I saw her eat a pack of crackers. And I think that's the last time she ate. I'm going to have to get a good meal in her soon.

I take off my coat and sit down on the bed with a sigh. I can still hear the water running in the bathroom. Casey likes long showers, but I have no way of knowing how long she's been in there already. She knew I was going to talk to the DA. She probably took a shower to calm her nerves.

I lay on my back and stare up at the ceiling, a million thoughts rushing through my mind. I'd give anything to take Casey home and go back to the way our lives were before all this happened. Turn Casey back into the happy, silly woman she used to be. A tear slides down my cheek as I think about how much I miss her.

Before long I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't even hear the water shut off and Casey emerge from the bathroom. I'm not even aware she's standing next to the bed until I hear her soft voice, "Alex? Are you okay?"

I sit up quickly and plaster a smile on my face when I take in Casey's appearance. Her hair is still damp from obviously being towel-dried, and is wavy as it falls over her shoulders. She's wearing her fleece pajama pants with the snowflakes on them and a white t-shirt. Reminds me of the old Casey; she was always wearing cute things like that. It's part of the reason I fell in love with her.

"No - I was just resting," I answer quickly, standing up off the bed so I can get a better look at her. She looks so beautiful right now. I can't resist reaching out and touching her cheek. She leans into my touch and closes her eyes. Since she reacted so positively to my touch, I take a chance and kiss her forehead. And as I do, I catch a whiff of the lavender body wash she uses. It always turns me on. If things were normal, I'd push her down on the bed and take her right now.

I rest my head against Casey's and we enjoy the feel of each other for a few more minutes until Casey slowly pulls away from me. I don't want to let go. I want this moment to be never-ending.

And then Casey asks the inevitable question I was hoping I wouldn't have to answer. "How did it go with the DA?"

_Tell her, Alex, _I prod myself. _Just it her down, look her in the eyes, and tell your wife what happened. Don't lie to her; don't sugar-coat it. Just __**tell **__her._

I hesitate and struggle to find the right words, and that gives Casey her answer right there. The semi-hopeful expression on her face falls and is replaced with a look of sorrow. She actually takes a step away from me. "She isn't filing charges, is she?"

I look Casey in the eyes and shake my head sadly. I speak no words, but my actions speak volumes. Tears spring to life in my eyes as I watch Casey look away from me to try and mask how much it hurts. I can actually see her heart breaking, and it's more than I can bare.

"Casey…" I start softly. I take a step toward her and reach for hand, but Casey flinches away. It hurts, but I respect how she's feeling at the moment. I swallow harshly and force a reassuring smile. "She was completely sympathetic, but there just wasn't - "

Casey shakes her head. "Not enough evidence. I know. You don't have to explain it." She clears her throat. "I fucked up - I get it."

"No, Casey! It isn't like that!" I'm quick to object. I can tell by her body language and tone of voice that she is on the verge of putting a wall up and running. I don't want that.

"Then what is it like, Alex?" Casey demands. "There's no evidence because I did not follow the proper procedure to preserve evidence. I couldn't even handle filing a police report! I ran out of there as I were on fire. This whole thing - " Casey has to stop and catch her breath. She's starting to cry and tremble because she's so worked up. "This whole thing is my fault. I'm sorry you ever had to go to that meeting."

"No, Casey. It isn't your fault. It's Jenna. Jenna did this. And this isn't over - just because the DA won't press charges doesn't mean she gets away with this. We'll take her to civil court, baby. She'll pay for what she did. I don't intend to drop this at all." Casey is looking away from me, at the wall. The tears are gone from her eyes but I know her heart is still breaking. "Casey, please. Don't blame yourself."

But I know she is. No matter what I say to her, she blames herself. She always will. She shakes her head again and says, "Forget it, Alex. It isn't even worth it." Her voice is so sad and flat. It's as if she's given up. There is no fight at all in her eyes or her voice. And it kills me to see her that way.

Casey steps around and starts gathering her clothes from the closet and laying them out on the bed.

I follow her. "Casey, please just listen - "

Casey throws the bathrobe she has in her hand down on the bed and looks up at me angrily. "Stop it, Alex! Stop with the baby talk and the false hope! I don't need it right now! This is my mess and I have to deal with it." She starts to hastily fold her clothes up. "I love you Alex, but you need to stop. I need to deal with this in my own way."

I speak around the lump in my throat. "Casey….I just - what can I do?"

She looks up at me with what could be the most serious expression I've ever seen Casey wear. "You can take me home."

* * *

**Casey's POV**

We've been home for two days. Alex went back to work yesterday.

It's been hell. We went to pick up the dog and the ferret from Olivia's apartment as soon as we got home, and while we there, Olivia reluctantly showed us the headlines in the Post from the past couple of days. Turns out I made front-page news. Under the delightful headline, _"District Attorney's Wife Caught in Infidelity Scandal"_. I couldn't even read the article. I didn't want to know what it said.

We've been fighting off the press for the past couple of days. We can't even go to the grocery store without being hounded. It's awful. Along with Alex's status comes extra public scrutiny, and they have a field day with situations such as this. We've battled reporters from the local TV news station, newspaper reporters and even bloggers.

The media has painted _Jenna _as the victim. Spun the story that we were having an affair and when it came to light, I cried rape as a way to get out of it. No one seems to care what Jenna did. Only me.

Alex says I need to tell my side of the story. But I can't. I can't re-live my greatest shame to the newspapers or TV.

It's been worse for Alex than it has been for me. The phone in her office has been ringing off the hook. She released a statement on her first day back to work addressing the accusations against me. She said she stands by me no what and that the allegations against me are completely false. She tries to wear a brave face and tell me that everything is okay at the office, but I know the truth. I know just how hard it is for her. I know what she puts up with every day because of me. And as if all that weren't enough, the reminder of Jack McCoy's term that she was appointed to serve is up at the end of the year. She needs to decide within the next month whether or not she'll be running for the DA spot. A year ago this would be a daily conversation topic for us. Alex would be insanely excited about actually running for public office in her own right. But she hasn't even mentioned it.

How have I been dealing with everything? I haven't, really. I'm afraid to leave the house for fear of being hounded by the press…or the possibility that Jenna could be waiting for me. But I put on my happy face in front of Alex. I don't want her to worry about me any more. I don't want her to know that I'm just as bad as I was before. I don't want her to invest any more concern on me. So I get up with her and make breakfast and force myself to eat. I smile and laugh and pretend everything is okay. I tell her all the constructive things I'm going to go when she goes to work. Then Alex gives me a kiss before she leaves, and I can tell by the relieved expression on her face that she's buying my act. At least for the time being.

And then when Alex leaves, I lay on the couch all day. I watch stupid sitcom re-runs for hours. I ignore Blaze when he comes and begs me for walks. I don't eat lunch. I don't answer my phone or texts unless it's from Alex. Olivia, my dad and Senator Palmer have called me within the past two days. But I can't talk to them. I just exist…and wish I didn't.

Alex and I are sleeping together but I still can't get intimate with her. It's hard for me to even cuddle with her. I allow her to touch me for her sake, but whenever her arms are around me I tense up and the feelings of guilt all return. I think Alex can sense I'm uncomfortable. She is very patient and understanding with me. I know she'd never do anything to hurt me.

Alex and I have been discussing me seeing a therapist. Alex is checking into it for me. I have no intent to actually go through with it, but it makes Alex feel better when we talk about it. I do a pretty good job of hiding how I really feel about it. There's no way in hell I could talk about what Jenna did to a stranger. No way.

To summarize, I have become a very good actress these past couple of days. Oscar-worthy, in fact. I have Alex convinced that I am handling things well; when, in reality, the opposite is true.

As bad as things are mentally, physically they are becoming bad as well. I'm weak and tired all the time. I don't sleep more than an hour a night. I don't exercise anymore. The only time I eat is breakfast in the morning with Alex and something very light for dinner. I've been using the excuse that I've had an upset stomach to avoid eating anything substantial. It just doesn't matter to me anymore. I don't care about myself. All I care about is Alex and keeping he even remotely happy.

I've sunk back into the hole of depression I had started to crawl out of. Actually, I've been kicked back into it. And this time I have dirt thrown on me.

I'm on the third episode of _Seinfeld _of the day when Alex calls. I know it's her without even looking at my caller ID. I set a specific ringer for Alex so I'd know when she was calling and when the regular ringer goes off, I can just let the phone sit and not even look at it.

In a robotic motion, I reach out and grab my phone from the coffee table. Blaze lifts his head from his place on the floor in front of the couch and wags his tail, believing for one happy moment that his owner is snapping out of her depression and is going to pay some attention to him. But I disappoint him by making no attempt to get up and simply pressing the phone to my ear.

Alex's beautiful voice immediately explodes in my ear. "_Hi, baby! What are you up to?"_

"Taking Blaze for a walk," I lie and my heart clenches. It hurts me to have to do this to her. I hate lying. But I know it will hurt her even more to know I'm laying on the couch still in my Pjs just stating at the TV.

"_That's wonderful, baby. Glad you are getting some fresh air. __I'm going to wrap up work early this evening. How about we go to dinner?"_

I sigh loudly. Sitting at a fancy restaurant with all the other patrons looking at us and gossiping is the last thing I want right now. Staying inside the apartment away from prying eyes is what I want. Staying inside helps me forget I exist.

"I don't know, Alex…" I say slowly. "I don't think I can take the 'that's her' looks tonight. Dining with Manhattan's A-list doesn't sound appealing."

Alex is quiet for a moment. Then her cheerful voice says, _"Why don't we go somewhere casual? We haven't gotten pizza in so long. Pizza and garlic bread. We'll go to the Pizza Shack; I know you love that place. I'll lower my standards and drink out of a cardboard cup just for you." _

Alex hates the Pizza Shack. The pizza is so greasy that you nearly have to dab it off with a napkin before you can eat it. Silverware, napkins, parmesan cheese and all the essentials are already at the tables and booths. Obnoxious Italian cartoon drawings adorn the walls. Drinks are self-serve and cardboard cups are used. Alex Cabot _does not _go to eateries where cardboard cups are used. But yet here she is, offering to slum it for me because she knows I love the Pizza Shack and is trying to cheer me up.

I feel a wave of nausea wash over me. Alex loves me so much…how can I be lying to her everyday? How can I be hiding how I really feel? She deserves to know. She loves me as much as I love her. I need to tell her how bleak things are for me. She'll help me; she'll understand.

But can I really do that to her? She's gone back to work and is dealing with my mess, all the while worrying about how I am doing at home. She thinks I'm doing okay. The only reason she is able to be away from me and function is because she believes I am getting better. I can't let her down. I can't make her miss anymore work, or put any more pressure on her. I won't. And if I decline dinner she will worry the rest of the day until she's home, and then I'll have to work extra hard to keep up the charade of being "okay".

I take a deep breath and then I say, "Okay. Pizza sounds good."

Alex can't hide the excitement in her voice. _"Great! I'll be home around five-thirty. I love you, Casey."_

I echo the sentiment and place my phone back on the coffee table. I sit on the edge of the couch and sigh deeply, resting my head in my hands. I sadly shake my head, and suddenly Blaze gets up. He lets out a whine and places his head on my knee. I can feel him, but I just ignore him. But he won't stand for that. He whines again and actually places his paw on my knee this time.

I finally raise my head and look at him. His brown eyes are looking right into mine, as if he is seeing my soul and knows how sad and broken I am. I stare at him for a minute, and he whines again and once more paws at me.

I reach out and stroke his silky fur as a tear rolls down my cheek. "I'm sorry I'm neglecting you, boy. You deserve better than me too."

Blaze licks my hand as if he is telling me he loves me no matter how I feel, and I burst into tears. I lean forward and put my arms around Blaze so I'm hugging him. Then I sit there and cling to my dog and cry.

* * *

Our pizza has just been brought to the table and Alex excitedly picks up the spatula and drops the first slice onto my plate. She smiles in approval as if it's award-winning pizza from Italy or something.

I force a smile at her and lean forward in the booth. I'm not hungry at all, but I force myself to pick it up and take a small bite. The melted cheese is hot and burns the roof of my mouth so I quickly take a gulp of my Mountain Dew.

It's funny; I used to love this pizza. I would think about getting it all day. The grease, the hot cheese, the unique sauce…I craved it. But now it tastes like cardboard. Dull and flat, like the rest of my life.

I think I've put on a pretty good performance here tonight. I've listened to Alex talk about her day and given her a phony story about walking Blaze on a different route. I couldn't make eye contact with her as I spun my lies and every word made me guiltier than the one before it, but Alex bought every word I said. I think it's because, deep down, she wants to believe it's all true.

Neither of us has mentioned Jenna, and we haven't been hounded since we arrived at the Pizza Shack. We're with a totally different class of people here than at our usual restaurants. No high-society, political folks here. I'm much more comfortable in this setting.

And then suddenly Alex says something that surprises me. "Casey…I've been thinking maybe we should move."

I look up at her in surprise. "What do you mean? Your job is here. Our lives are here."

Alex sighs. "I'm going to give up the job after the term expires. I'm not running."

Hearing the usually ambitious Alex pass that line hurts me deep inside. Being District Attorney has been Alex's dream for a very long time. She's great at it. And what's more, she has always dreamt of running for office. She can't give up that dream; I won't let her.

"Why, Alex? You love that job!"

"I love _you _more, Casey. And I know what staying here will do to us. Especially to you. I think we need to get away. Away from….all this."

I swallow harshly and look at the tabletop. "Then Jenna wins more than she already has."

"No she doesn't. She doesn't win, Casey. We'll take her to civil court. Everyone will know the truth." Alex reaches across the table and covers my hand with hers and squeezes. "I think you need to make a public statement, baby. Channel Five has been wanting us both to come on their evening newscast for an interview. I think we should, baby. We should. I'll be there with you. Tell your side of the story. And then we pursue a civil case against her."

I knew it was just a matter of time before Alex brought this up again. My insecurities and nerves are flaring back up again. I nervously pick up napkin and start shedding it on the table, not able to look at Alex again. "I can't, Alex. Please understand that."

"I do understand, baby," she says softly. "I do. But I think it's something we need to do together."

I continue to shred my napkin and remain silent. I can feel myself start to shake and I have to will myself to stop. I'm becoming emotional. Upset, angry….everything.

Alex continues. "Maybe we can move to Washington, DC. I think you should consider going back to work for Senator Palmer. He fired Jenna, Casey. You did a wonderful job working for him. You had a future there. You could work permanently in DC and I could look for a job there."

I have to close my eyes to maintain my calm. I know there's no way I could go back to work for Senator Palmer. He knows what happened…I couldn't face him everyday. And the people in his office; it would be too much for me to take. "No, Alex," I say flatly.

"Casey, I think we should discuss it. I'm not forcing you. But we need to discuss it as a possibility. We can build a life together again, baby."

And suddenly I've lost my temper. I lose all my resolve and snap. I smack my hands down on the tabletop so hard that Alex actually flinches and her mouth drops open in shock. I'm crying and shaking and I can't control myself. "I said _no, _Alex! _No!_" I scream.

She's looking at me as if I'm some kind of monster, and once the initial shock wears off, I see her eyes scan the restaurant. I take a look myself and see several sets of eyes locked on me, and people whispering.

My face is growing red and hot from embarrassment as I scramble to get up from the booth. I have to get out of here. I'm losing control and way too emotional.

I nearly trip on my own shoes as I turn to dash away from the table, and suddenly Alex has a grip on my arm. Her warm blue eyes are tear-filled as she says, in a calm and direct voice, "Baby…it's okay, sweetheart. I'm sorry I brought that up. Sit back down; please."

I practically throw her off me and shake my head. I'm crying so hard now that I'm struggling to catch my breath. All I want is to be out of the eyes of the curious onlookers and away from Alex.

Without a word, I grab Alex's purse and fish out the car keys. Then I turn and literally run for the door.

Alex follows me of course. "Casey! Stop! You are too upset to drive!"

But I'm faster than her. By the time she reaches the car, I've already started it and engaged the door locks so she can't get inside. My vision is blurred from my tears and my hands are shaking as I grip the steering wheel.

Alex knocks on the driver's side window. "Casey!" she screams in desperation. I've never seen her like this. Alex Cabot on the verge of panic is not a normal sight. But I think she's there right now. I can tell she's breathing heavily and her eyes are wide and worried as she knocks on the window again.

But I ignore her and back out of the parking space. I wipe the tears from my eyes to clear my vision as I pull away from her and peel out of the parking lot.

I don't even look back. I'm sure Alex is still standing where I left her, worried out of her mind. She's probably calling a cab right now.

Alex is giving up her job for me…she wants to move from the place she loves. She loves New York. Her family and friends are here. She wants to pack up and leave _because of me_. Because of my stupidity and weakness.

I glare at the wedding ring on my hand. I suddenly hate it. It used to stand for love. Now all that I see when I look at it is how much I ruined Alex's life. I never should have went back to her. She was much better off without me. She is, Senator Palmer is, the state of New York is - everyone is.

I hate myself. I've never been so low, never hated myself more.

As hastily pull into our driveway, not even bothering to park in the garage. I have no idea how much time I have before Alex comes home. I'm sure she's in a cab right now, yelling at the driver to hurry up. She could show up at any minute.

I have to do this before she gets home and before she can even try to stop me.

Once inside the house I run up the stairs, taking them two at a time. With every step I remind myself how useless I am. Over emotional and out of control. Alex can do much better. Things will get better for her once I'm gone.

I'm crying again as I burst into our upstairs bathroom. I lean against the sink, trying to steady my breathing. I find myself face-to-face with myself in the mirror once again. Looking into those dead green eyes. I even look like I've lost weight. I look like only a shell of who I used to be.

_You worthless piece of shit_! I scream at myself as I pound my fist against the sink, shattering it on impact. One of the jagged pieces of glass sticks into the side of my hand and blood starts to run down my arm, but I don't care. I deserve to hurt.

I throw open the medicine cabinet and grab Alex's sleeping pills. It takes everything I have to steady my hand enough to open the child-proof cab and look inside. The bottle is at least half full. A smile spreads across my lips. I know that's more than enough to get the job done.

I have to do it quickly, before I lose my nerve. So I take a deep breath and empty the pills into my palm. I don't even bother to count them. It doesn't matter how many there are; I know there's enough. I close my fist against them and fill the small cup by the sink up with water.

There's too many to swallow at once, so I put half the pills in my mouth and chase them down with a large gulp of water. Once I feel them go down, I look at the remaining pills in my hand. I start to shake again. If I stop now I'll probably only get sick….that isn't enough.

So in one motion I put the rest in my mouth, take a drink of water, and swallow them.

**Oh no! What is going to happen? Will Alex make it home in time? What will happen to Casey? And have they seen the last of Jenna? Please review and let me know what you think of this chapter!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Sorry for the big cliffhanger on the last chapter! It couldn't be avoided :) And hope you enjoy this one!  
**

**Alex's POV**

When the cab pulls into our driveway, I'm relieved to see my car parked hastily right in the driveway.

I wasn't sure she would come home. I had visions of having to take the cab all over Manhattan in a desperate attempt to find my wife. But thank God she's here.

I quickly pay the driver and climb out of the cab. I have a million thoughts racing through my mind right now. I'm happy that Casey is okay and home, but at the same time I'm very frustrated that no matter what I do I can't seem to get through to her.

The front door is unlocked, so I enter with a sigh. I hate when Casey doesn't lock the door. I understand she's upset, but it's very unsafe to leave the house unlocked, especially for people in our positions and considering the tabloid fodder we've become.

Blaze immediately greets me at the door. His tail is wagging, but he seems distressed. Instead of rubbing against my leg and begging to be petted per the norm, he sits right down in front of me and whines.

I smile at him uneasily and pet his head. He can probably tell that Casey is upset, wherever she is in the house.

I don't want to rush at her, so I enter the living room and hang my coat on the coat rack by the door. There's no signs of life here or in the kitchen and the downstairs bathroom door is open, so my amazing powers of deduction tell me that she's mostly likely upstairs, and probably in our bedroom.

I take the stairs slowly, not wanting her to hear me and panic. I'm nervous; I hope she doesn't have the bedroom door locked or scream at me to go away. I tell myself that if she doesn't _want _to see me, I'm going to _force _her to.

Sure enough the bedroom door is closed. I knock lightly before I try to enter and call out softly, "Casey? Honey, it's me."

I give her a minute to answer. When she doesn't, I try again. "Casey? Sweetheart, are you in there?"

Still no answer. I sigh again and try the doorknob. Thankfully the door isn't locked and opens easily.

The first thing I see is Casey lying in bed under the covers. The only way I'm able to tell it's her and not just a human-sized lump under our down comforter is her red hair splayed out against the pillow.

I desperately want to sit down beside her and comfort her and let her know it's okay and I love her, and make it clear we want to talk. I know she's aware that I'm home. Hiding under the covers is an avoidance tactic right now. She probably pulled them up over herself when she heard me knock on the door.

I decide to give her a minute. Instead of approaching the bed, I speak her name softly once again. "I know you're upset, Casey. And I don't blame you. But please don't do this."

She doesn't respond or move, so I sigh heavily and go into the adjoining bathroom. I shut the door behind me and go about my business. When I'm finished I take my time washing my hands, giving Casey time to decide to get up and face me.

I'm just about to reach for the hand towel on the towel rack when something on the edge of the sink counter catches my eye.

It's an orange bottle of pills and appears to be empty. I immediately assume the worst - Casey must have had one of her migraines and had to take her last pill. Frowning, I pick up the bottle. Looks like I'm going to have to call in a refill for her.

I'm shocked to see my name on the label - and even more shocked when I realize it's my sleeping pills - which I had half a bottle of when I took one last night.

My hand begins to shake as I'm filled with dread, and I drop the bottle into the sink. I turn away from the sink and literally run out of the bathroom. My breath catches in my throat and my throat is beating a million miles beats per second.

_She couldn't have…she __**wouldn't **__have…_I keep telling myself over and over as I force myself to approach the bed. Casey hasn't uncovered herself. As I reach down to touch her, I step in something by the bed.

It's a puddle of vomit on our carpet, right beside the bed. I start to cry as my worst fears are confirmed, and I literally rip the comforter off Casey.

She's lying there with her eyes closed, looking to be in nothing more than an angelic slumber. But I know better.

I'm trembling as I sit down on the bed and grab Casey's shoulder and shake her. "Casey? Baby?" I ask in a shaking voice, and when she doesn't answer, I burst into tears and shake her again. "Casey? Casey, please answer me!"

But she doesn't answer. She doesn't even move.

I'm crying so hard now I can't think clearly. The logical part of me that is left knows I have to call an ambulance and I have to do it now. Seconds and minutes are precious, and it's been too long already. Who knows how long she was here before me? And I wasted so much time in the bathroom…

Hot tears are streaming down my cheeks as I reach out and place my finger to Casey's neck, checking for a pulse. She's so warm and soft, and that only makes me sob harder. My poor, poor baby…how did things get this bad? How did I not know she was hurting so badly?

To my immense relief, I find a pulse, but it's faint. And her breathing appears labored and ragged. I know I don't have long.

I can barely make myself stand up. I grab my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans and in my haste I drop it. I curse myself aloud and fumble to pick it up. I can barely dial 911 before I drop it again. By the second time I pick it up, I am bawling and I can't stop.

I have never been so scared in my life. My sweet, beautiful wife whom I love more than life itself has just tried to end her life. And I didn't make it home in time to stop it.

The 911 operator comes on and I find myself crying and rambling, unable to form coherent words. All the years spent orating and debating are betraying me now - I can't even spit out a sentence.

I sit down on the bed and pick up Casey's hand. It's still warm but feels so limp and lifeless in mine. And I start to sob harder and let go of her hand and opt to stroke her hair instead. She's such a beautiful girl, inside and out…why would she do this?

"_Ma'am? Ma'am? I need you to calm down…." _the 911 operator prods as I'm still screaming incoherent words into my phone.

I take a deep breath and attempt to somewhat calm myself. "My wife overdosed on sleeping pills - she's not waking up - " is all I can manage before I break down in tears once again.

The operator starts to say something when Casey suddenly starts to cough. For a moment I think she's waking up, but then I realize what's going on - she's getting sick again.

"She's vomiting," I quickly rush out, turning her onto her stomach so she doesn't choke on it and gently rubbing her back. My hands are still shaking. "What should I do? How can I stop it?"

"_Don't stop it," _the operator says sternly.

She says something else, but I'm too focused on my wife to catch it. Casey continues to get sick on the sheets until she stops and rolls over with a moan. I nearly drop my phone and I'm shaking her again. "Casey! Baby, it's going to be okay!" I tell her. And then she stops breathing. Completely stops. Her pulse is still there - faintly - but she's as lifeless as a rag doll.

And suddenly I'm angry and screaming into the phone. "Jesus Christ, we need _help_!" I shout so loudly that my voice goes hoarse. "She isn't breathing! She isn't breathing!" I don't know how many times I say that, but every time I hear my own words it just reminds me how close I am to losing my Casey. And I _can't. _I _can't. _I can't survive without her. She's my other half.

I'm faintly aware of the operator telling me she has already dispatched paramedics to our address. Thank God call locations are logged; there's no way I would have been able to coherently give her our address.

It seems like hours pass as I sit there on the bed sobbing on the phone to a complete stranger, telling her I don't want to lose my wife, and watching Casey slowly slip away from me.

I don't know how to describe the next few minutes. I don't think there is any way to, really. The paramedics arrive while I'm still on the phone with the 911 operator. I'm momentarily confused as to how they let themselves in until I remember the unlocked front door. I must not have locked it behind me either. But in that moment, I'm glad I didn't. I wouldn't have wanted to leave Casey to let them in.

There are three paramedics and one officer; someone I don't know. I'm asked to step aside as the younger paramedic leans over the bed to check Casey. I'm standing out of the way, with my back pressed against our walk-in closet door, tears streaming down my face as I watch my lifeless wife be loaded onto a stretcher.

Everything seems to be moving in slow motion. The police officer approaches me, a sympathetic expression written on his face even though I know there's no possible way he can know how I feel right now. He asks me what happened, and I hold up hand, stopping him mid-sentence. There's no way I can answer any questions - not now. I shake my head and say only two words - very sternly - "Not _now._"

I watch in horror as one of the paramedics leans over Casey and roughly administers CPR. I know it's necessary to be rough and fast, but I can almost hear her ribs cracking under the pressure of the his chest compressions and it makes me wince. My poor baby.

After two attempts, the paramedic nods and says something to the other two. I feel a wave of relief wash over me – he must have got Casey breathing. That has to be a good sign, right?

The next few minutes go by in a blur. I'm asked some questions - "what pills did she take it, when did you find her, was the prescription hers," and a slew of other questions I answer hastily and angrily as I follow the paramedics and the stretcher out of the bedroom and through the house.

I'm holding Casey's hand as we go, squeezing it tightly and telling her how much I love her and want her to stay with me. Her eyes are still closed and she looks so lifeless and dull that it breaks my heart. Tears are still flowing freely down my cheeks. I don't think I'll ever stop crying.

When we exit through the front door, Blaze comes out with us. He can't really be out without being on his runner or a leash because he tends to wander. Through my tears I manage to call his name, but he ignores me. He is running full speed across our yard towards the woods. The paramedics and the tension in the house must have frightened him.

I know I can't go after him. Casey is more important. If he doesn't come home on his own, I'll have someone go look for him. It would devastate Casey to lose her dog. But I can't worry about him now. My wife is in the middle of a life or death battle and I intend to be by her side.

I get in the back of the ambulance as they load Casey in and secure the stretcher. By now she's stopped breathing again. The paramedic in the front wastes no time throwing on the siren and peeling out if our driveway while the other two in the back with me work on Casey.

CPR is attempted once again, but Casey doesn't respond to it this time. By now I'm panicking. I grab the wrist of the younger paramedic. "Don't stop! Please! Don't let her die!" I've never pleaded with a complete stranger this way before. I've never _needed _someone in this way. I don't even know this young man's name – but right now he is the only thing standing between life and death for my wife and I have to make him make the right choice. He _can't_ give up. He _has _to save Casey; since I couldn't.

"We need to intubate her," the other paramedic says, and now all I can do is sitting clasping Casey's hand and crying again as they quickly work a clear tube down Casey's throat. I hold my breath and wince until they stop pushing it down and begin putting in IV into Casey's arm. I'm glad Casey wasn't conscious for that. It looked extremely uncomfortable.

Thankfully, the tube works and Casey starts breathing again. Even though she's unconscious and completely unaware of what is happening, I still talk to her. I smooth her hair back and press a kiss to her lips while the paramedics watch her vitals and try to give us a shred of privacy.

"Casey, baby," I whisper, stroking Casey's soft cheek. "I love you so much, Casey. I'm so sorry this happened. I'm sorry you felt so bad that you felt like you had to do this." A lump forms in my throat as my eyes well up with tears again and I have to take a deep breath to continue. I'm overwhelmed by that familiar feeling of guilt. _I pushed her too far at the restaurant…this is all my fault. I pushed her. I put her in this state of mind. How __**could **__I?_

Her eyes remain tightly closed but her chest is still rising and falling slowly and I silently thank God for that awful tube down her throat right now. It's the only thing keeping her alive at the moment.

I can't imagine losing her. I couldn't bear that. I could not live my life if Casey were not in this world. I could not wake up alone every morning and know that I would never see her smiling face or hear her beautiful laugh ever again. I couldn't live in a world where she didn't exist, and I know it. Casey's my soul mate, my other half. It's hard enough seeing her depressed every day. But having her gone completely is another thing entirely.

How could I not see how bad things had gotten? I knew Casey was still having a hard time, but she was walking Blaze everyday and cooking and eating with me. She said she was reading during the day and doing productive things to keep herself occupied. But I realize now it was all an act. Casey hadn't wanted to worry me. Casey had wanted me to believe that things were okay. And I was blind to just how much she was hurting, because I wanted nothing more than for her to be okay.

But I _should _have seen it. Casey is my wife; it's my job to take care of her. I failed her. I failed _us._

"You're going to be okay," I promise her, still stroking her cheek. "We're on our way to the hospital. They're going to take care of you. I won't leave your side. We'll get through this, baby. I promise."

I never make promises to my Casey that I can't keep, so I fully intend to keep this one. I raise my head and look at the paramedics. "She_ is _going to be okay, right?"

They exchange glances and the younger of the two says, "She consumed a lot of powerful medication, ma'am. The doctor will be able to discuss her condition with her once we reach the hospital. She's stable for now, but she's going to need her stomach pumped."

I cringe and squeeze my baby's hand. She doesn't deserve to have to go through any of that. She doesn't deserve what Jenna did to her, how the press painted her out to be, and most of all, she doesn't deserve a wife who was too blind and naïve to see the effect it all had on her.

* * *

When we arrive at the hospital, I have only seconds to talk to and kiss Casey before she's whisked away from me and a kindly young blonde nurse has her hand on my arm, trying to calm me and reassure me that my wife is in the best hands possible.

"I want to be with her," I rush out as the nurse is walking me back towards the waiting area, her hand on my back. I'm shaking and nauseated and scared to death all at once. I turn around as I start crying again, searching the nurse's eyes for compassion and understanding. "Please let me be with my wife. Please!"

She smiles warmly at me as she helps me sit down in the first available chair. The chair is hard and uncomfortable; appropriate for this situation.

I'm crying again as she sits beside me and takes my arm again. "Your wife is being treated; they're going to pump her stomach right now and then her doctor will speak to you. There's nothing you can do for her right now other than what you're doing."

"Why can't I be with her? She's probably terrified! She needs me!" I rush out, feeling myself lose control. This is so not me. Normally I'm cool and collected and the one in charge. I always _tell _people what I want – not _ask _them. But right now I feel less like myself than I ever have. I'm at the mercy of doctors and nurses her. I'm depending on them to take care of my wife…like I couldn't.

"Time is precious right now, and they need to be able to work on your wife without distraction. She's unconscious, so she won't be aware of what they're doing. You can see her as soon as they're done; I promise you. And her doctor will be able to answer all your questions."

I meet the eyes of the kind blonde woman who probably has hours worth of work to do but is taking time out to try and calm me and assure me that my wife is comfortable and in capable hands. I nod in appreciation and let myself look at the nametag on her uniform – Tracy.

"Thank you, Tracy. I'm just – so scared. She's my wife and I love her. She tried to kill herself, and I – I – " I struggle for the right words. "I don't know what to do!"

"She's in the right place. We can get her help. She'll have to have a psych evaluation, and we'll go from there. But I promise you that we can help her."

I stare blankly at the TV mounted on the wall. I know Casey will be forced to talk to the hospital psychiatrist before she is released. And depending on what he or she determines, Casey may even be kept on suicide watch for several days. I'll see what my influence can do to get her out sooner, but….I don't want to jeopardize her health. She _did _try and kill herself. We have to take this one step at a time, one day at a time. I have no idea what state of mind Casey will even be in when she wakes up. Will she be remorseful for what she did, will she blame me, or will she be angry that I found her and kept her from her goal?

If I hadn't come home when I did….I shudder to think of what would have happened. I don't know what made me go home in the first place. I thought it was the last place Casey would go. I figured I'd have to go all over the city looking for her. But something drew me home. Something told me to come back there, like a beacon of light shining from the rooftop.

And it's a good thing I did.

"What is your wife's name?" Tracy asks gently, trying to distract me from my troubled thoughts.

"Casey," I answer quickly, managing a smile. "Casey Cabot. She's the sweetest, most beautiful girl in the world."

Tracy smiles right back. "That's a beautiful name. And I'm sure Casey loves you as much as you love her. She's going to need you to be strong, for her and for yourself." I can only nod as Tracy squeezes my arm again. "I hate to have to do this, but I need you to fill out some paperwork for Casey, okay? I also need her insurance cards. And is there someone you'd like me to call to come and sit with you?"

I hadn't even thought to grab Casey's purse for her insurance card. And thinking about it now, I'm not sure if her insurance is even valid anymore since she quit her job at Senator Palmer's office. But no matter – even if it is invalid, I'll pay for whatever treatment she needs myself, out of pocket. And I can get her on my insurance now that she isn't covered. Money and insurance is the furthest thing from my mind.

I need to call Casey's dad. And Senator Palmer. My mind is going a million miles an hour as I nod at Tracy and she disappears behind the desk to retrieve the paperwork I need to fill out for Casey's admittance. I give her Olivia's number and ask her to call her. I think it might be nice to have her here. She's Casey's friend as well as mine, and I shouldn't be alone right now.

A few minutes later Tracy returns with the paperwork and informs me that she spoke to Olivia and that she is on her way. I feel a bit of relief at that.

I begin filling out the paperwork. And it just makes this whole thing all the more real.

* * *

Not even fifteen minutes later, Olivia appears in the waiting room. Her worried expression mirrors my own. We see each other at the same time, and I stand as we embrace each other.

"I'm so sorry, Alex," Olivia says softly as we break apart and she sits down next to me. "Is she okay?"

I shake my head. I know what Olivia means, but I still say, "No, she isn't 'okay', Liv. She tried to kill herself!"

Olivia looks past my outburst. "How is she now? Have you seen her yet?"

I shake my head again. "She's getting her stomach pumped. I can see her after." My eyes fill with tears yet again. "She took so many pills, Liv. I don't know how many sleeping pills I had left, but she took the entire bottle! There was vomit on the floor and she got sick while I was on the phone with 911…she was unconscious the whole time…I just don't know what to do, Olivia!"

Olivia puts her hand on my back comfortingly. "She'll be okay. You got to her in time. They're pumping her stomach. She'll most likely sleep for awhile, but she'll be okay. And they have someone here she can talk to. You're going to get Casey back. I promise it will be all right, Alex."

I know everything she is saying is true, except the last part – I'm not going to get Casey back so easily. She isn't just going to 'come' back to me. She's going to need serious therapy; possibly for a long time. She may be angry with me and not _want _to have anything to do with me at first. I have to prepare myself for that possibility as well.

I don't respond to what Olivia has said. Instead I just say, "I need to call her dad. And Senator Palmer."

"Why don't you give yourself some time first? Call after you've talked to her doctor, so you know what to tell them?"

The logical part of me knows this is the right thing to do, so I just nod. I have no idea what to say right now. I have never been so scared in my life. So unsure of anything in my life.

I wish life came with a 'rewind' button. Or a 'delete' button. But of course it doesn't.

And Jenna has to pay. Even if I have to take her to civil court myself; she's _going _to pay. She can't be allowed to get away with this. This is all because of her.

A few minutes after Olivia arrives, a doctor comes into the waiting area. He's middle-aged and very distinguished looking, with serious glasses and an intense stare. He addresses me by name, and I stand up to talk to him, my stomach in knots.

"Casey is stable. We were able to get a tube down her throat and pump her stomach. She is going to have a sore throat for a couple days for the intubation in the ambulance and the stomach pumping, but she will be recover just fine. The medication she consumed rarely causes any lasting damage to the body in such a short amount of time, but it's not impossible. I'll need to monitor her closely for the next couple of days. She also sustained two broken ribs from the CPR she was given by EMTS. A nurse will wrap her ribs up and give her something for pain once she's awake."

A flood of relief flows through me. Casey is okay! But I know this is far from over.

"So she isn't awake? Can I go sit with her?" I ask hopefully. "So I'm there when she wakes up?"

"She's unconscious at the moment. She's expected to sleep for a few more hours. We could bring her out of it, but in situations like these it's best for the patient to sleep it off. She'll be groggy and confused when she wakes; effects of an overdose of sleep medicine is similar to an extreme hangover. Even though we pumped her stomach, a good deal of the medication did get into her system. This is why she's asleep and will remain that way for awhile. Once the effects taper off, we'll have a pysch evaluation done and go from there. Casey will need to be alone for the psych evaluation."

I know and understand the logic in that. But it's going to be extremely difficult for Casey, and I know it.

"Thank you, doctor. Thank you for taking care of my Casey," I rush out, trying to sound as appreciative as possible. "Can I be allowed to see her now?"

"We're just finishing up. She has to have one last vital check, and then I will have a nurse come out to get you. It shouldn't be long."

I thank him again and fall back into my seat. Again I have to wait. My Casey is in there alone. I know she's asleep and that gives me some comfort, but I still wish I was by her side right now. She could wake up at any minute, really. Her doctor said she'll be confused. And most likely scared. I need to be there to let her know everything is okay…even if it isn't.

"See?" Olivia says with a wide smile, "It's going to be a tough road, but she's going to be okay, Alex. I know because she has you."

I'm about to respond when a brunette suddenly walks into the waiting room and comes to stand right in front of me. "Are you Alex Cabot?" she asks. Concern is written all over her face.

The woman is wearing a suit and my first instinct is that it's someone from Senator Palmer's office that Casey worked with and they somehow found out she was here. So because of this, I greet the woman more warmly than I should. And I realize my mistake just seconds later.

"Can I help you with something?" I ask.

"Actually, yes," she says, and suddenly pulls a tape recorder out of her pocket. "I'm Elaine Traynor from The Post – I'd like a statement about you regarding your wife's condition."

Anger immediately flashes in my eyes. These people have no hearts and no boundaries! Casey isn't even conscious yet, and here is one of those slimeballs wanting a statement from me! I'm not surprised that the Post already knows; they have eyes and ears all over the city. They monitor police scanners and 911 calls. The wife of the District Attorney – who is currently being publicly shunned for something she didn't do – attempting suicide is a _huge _story.

I glare at Elaine. "You need to leave. I have no statement to give you."

Elaine seems unfazed. "You're going to have to address this sooner or later. The public has a right to know. Your wife attempted suicide. How are you feeling right now?"

It's Olivia's turn to glare. She stands up and faces Elaine. "Put the tape recorder away. _Now. _This is a hospital. She is waiting to see her wife. You need to leave. Either leave under your own power or I'll make you leave." Olivia flashes her badge.

This too has no effect on Elaine, but thankfully we are interrupted by a nurse entering the waiting room and calling my name. As soon as I stand up, the nurse says, "I can take you to see Casey now."

All I care about is seeing Casey. The waiting room, the reporter, Olivia….they all vanish and suddenly the only thoughts in my mind are that I'm about to see my wife. I'm about to hold her hand. I'm about to start out making things right again.

I start to follow the nurse when Elaine speaks again. "Nothing is more of an admittance of guilt than an attempted suicide."

The last bit of 'me' inside of me completely fades away and something snaps. Rage takes over. How _dare _she talk about my wife that way? Casey tried to kill herself because of Jenna and people like her, yet she has the nerve to say a thing like that to me?

I turn around in time to see the cocky smirk on Elaine's face, and that's what pushes me over the edge. The false sense of righteousness and accomplishment in her eyes. She thinks she's speaking to the wife of someone who betrayed her by having an affair. She thinks she knows the truth. She thinks she has a right to pass judgment on my Casey.

But she doesn't.

I pull back and punch her across the face as hard as I can. Elaine – and everyone else in the waiting room – gasps as Elaine stumbles backwards and falls to her knees, holding the side of her face and staring at me in shock.

Never in my life did I ever think I'd be capable of punching someone. When I slapped Jenna I thought that would be the end of the violence inside me….but that's nothing compared to this. No matter how gentle you are – no matter how much you oppose the use of violence – when someone attacks the person you love, all bets are off. You act in a protective manner. The person you were before no longer exists and all that matters is protecting your love.

I glare at Elaine and stand over her. I lock my eyes on her. "Don't you _ever _speak that way about Casey again. _Ever._"

Then I turn back to the nurse as if nothing happened and say, "Take me to my wife."

**So what do you think? Did you like this? Is it sad? What about Alex's little tantrum with the reporter? Any thoughts on what is going to happen? Please review and let me know what you think!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Sorry for the update delay - it's been a super busy week! Thanks for sticking with the story. Hope you enjoy this one.**

When I'm taken to Casey's room, I hesitate outside the door and have to take a deep breath before I am able to step inside. I don't know if I have the strength for this. To see Casey so weak and vulnerable…I'm not sure I can do this.

But I know I _have to. _As I step into the room, I clench my fists together and that's when I realize my right hand hurts badly. I guess punching someone will do that to you. But I pay no attention to the pain as I approach Casey's bed.

My breath catches in my throat as I look at Casey and I nearly burst into tears again.

She's lying on her back and she's asleep. Her head is turned slightly to the left and her hair is splayed out across the white pillow. She has an IV in her right arm and I can hear the steady beep of one of the nearby machines as I stand next to the bed and pick up Casey's soft hand.

The nurse standing next to Casey's bed reading her chart greets me with a smile. "You must be Alex."

I nod, my eyes on Casey. My eyes well up with tears again as I bend down and kiss Casey on the forehead. My heart hurts. It actually _hurts. _That's my wife – my Casey – lying in that bed hooked up to those machines. She's here because she hated herself so much that she felt she needed to try and end her life. I can't even imagine the pain and sorrow she's been in. How could I be so blind?

I'm sobbing unashamedly now, not even caring that I'm in the presence of a nurse and she can hear and see everything that is going on. I sit down in the chair next to the bed, squeezing Casey's hand and leaning against the railing on her bed. I'm crying so hard that I can't even get any words out.

Thankfully, the nurse takes this as her cue to duck out. She clears her throat and says, "I'm done here. But the cardiologist will be in to see Casey shortly. And we'll get her a psych evaluation as soon as she wakes."

I'm suddenly filled with dread. Cardiologist? Why would she need to see one? I pull myself together enough to wipe my eyes and say, "Cardiologist?"

"Yes. Her heartbeat is irregular."

I raise my head and look at the heart monitor. I don't know why; I can't read the things anyway. I guess I just felt the need to actually see it. It looks normal to me.

The nurse must read the horror on my face, because she smiles reassuringly. "She'll be okay. But unfortunately, heart damage is common with an overdose of that magnitude. But we'll know more once the cardiologist has examined her."

I turn my attention back to my wife as the nurse leaves the room. More tears are coming and I'm biting my bottom lip as I stroke Casey's forehead gently. She is so beautiful. Her leaving this world would have been a tragedy.

"Baby," I whisper, "I am so sorry this happened. So sorry you felt so badly that you felt you had to do this." I stop stroking momentarily as my hand throbs greatly, but I rest only a moment. Casey's emotional pain is much worse than my hand. I have no right to complain. I start stroking her again. "I love you so much, Casey. I am so sorry you doubted that. I am so sorry it got this bad. I am sorry I didn't see…"

I have to stop talking as a cascade of tears overtakes me. I don't think I've ever cried so much in my life. The harsh reality that I nearly lost the person I love grips me and holds me tightly. I came _so close_ to finding her too late. And if I had, I don't know what I would have done.

Casey is here because of me. It was Jenna who destroyed her…but me who let it get this far. My adorable, happy Casey has been replaced with a perpetually sad Casey who hates herself. Who needed me to build her back up.

And I didn't. As her wife, I failed. I went back to work and her alone all day in our big house with nothing but her tortured thoughts. I chose to believe she was getting better. I _wanted _to believe it. But I should have known better. I should have known it wasn't that easy. Casey went through a trauma and was dragged through the mud publically. What a fool I was to believe she could actually get better on her own.

I should have been with her. I should have _forced _her to get counseling. I shouldn't have taken no for an answer. If I had done my job, this wouldn't have happened. And now she's faced with possible heart damage and having to endure a psych evaluation.

Things are going to change. They have to. I have to be there for Casey – on a full-time basis. At least until she gets better. I have a lot of decisions to make. I have to decide what to do about my job. I can't keep taking time off. Manhattan needs a District Attorney who can actually do their job. I have to give this some serious thought and decide whether or not me staying on the job is fair to anyone – me, Casey or the people of Manhattan.

Two years ago my career was the most important thing in my life. Now it's Casey.

"You're going to get help, baby. Here at the hospital, and when you're released. I will get you the best help available. I won't let you down again. I just love you so much, sweetheart." I kiss the back of her hand and force a smile, even though she can't see me. And then I remember her doctor told me she has broken ribs from the CPR she was given and I gently run my hand over her ribcage. "And I'm not leaving your side. Ever. You're stuck with me for life."

I sit there holding her hand and talking to her for over an hour. She remains asleep; so dead still that I'd be concerned if I hadn't been forewarned that she'd be asleep for awhile. She looks so pale and frail, and as I study her closely I realize she's even lost some weight. I scold myself again for not realizing something was seriously wrong before it was too late.

When the cardiologist finally comes into the room, I'm so focused on Casey that I don't even realize we have company until he is standing right next to the bed.

"Alex Cabot?" I'm startled by his voice, and I actually jump as I turn around in my seat and force a smile at him. I nod and hold my hand, as if to introduce myself. I'm surprised by how long he looks; every cardiologist I'd ever seen or met was usually middle-aged or older. This man looks to be just out of medical school. My protectiveness for Casey immediately flares up. I want her to have the best care possible; not to be examined and treated by an inexperienced doctor.

"I'm Doctor Anderson; I'm a cardiologist who will be treating your wife." He steps around me and approaches the heart monitor, adjusting a button on the side and studying it carefully.

"How does her heart look?" I ask nervously, stroking the back of Casey's hand with my thumb.

"I can't be sure until we get her down for an echocardiogram. Someone will be up to get her shortly; in the meantime, I can answer any questions you have."

Good. Because I have several.

"How bad could the damage be?" is my first question.

"It's hard to say. There could be none at all, it could be minimal, or it could be substantial. Heart damage is common with overdoses of powerful prescription medications. Her heart monitor indicates she has an irregular heartbeat; now this could mean one of several things. It could mean she has a heart condition that has been undiagnosed until now, it could mean there is damage from the overdose, or it could just be a residual effect of the medication. As I said, I won't know until I'm able to look at her echo."

I nod and bite my lip, rubbing Casey's hand again. I put my eyes on her and keep them there. "Is it treatable? What is going to need to be done?"

"It depends on what I find. She may just need daily medication and regular check-ups. She may need a pacemaker. I'm just not able to say right now."

My heart clenches when I hear the word "pacemaker". A pacemaker is for an eighty-year old; not my thirty-six year old wife who has been active and healthy her whole life. This isn't fair. _None _of it is.

Before I ask my next question, I bend down and kiss Casey's forehead again. This time Casey flinches. I'm positive she could feel the kiss. I squeeze her hand tighter; hopefully she is coming out of it.

Then I force myself to look at Doctor Anderson again. "How long have you been practicing, Dr. Anderson?"

The question comes out harsher than I intend for it too, but I make no apologies for it. When it comes to Casey, I don't compromise on her care. And I don't trust just _anyone _with her.

Doctor Anderson seems undaunted by what I have just said. He's probably used to having his skills and ability challenged. But I'll bet he has never come up against someone like me.

"I've been practicing for six years, Mrs. Cabot. I work with one of the best teams in the state. I assure you that your wife will be in good hands."

I'm choked up again, so I can all I can do is mutter "Thank you," and shake my head as Dr. Anderson asks if I have any other questions and then explains that someone will be up to take Casey down to get her heart echo within the half hour.

All I can do while I sit there and wait is go over a million possible scenarios in my head. What if Casey's heart damage is so bad that she can't engage in biking or any physical activity she enjoys? Or what if it's so bad that she ends up needing an operation somewhere down the line?

I'm overcome with guilt. This is _all _my fault. Casey may not have a normal life again…all because of me. Jenna drove her to this. But I allowed it to happen. Some might say it's Casey's fault for attempting suicide; but I blame everyone _but _Casey.

When a nurse comes up to take Casey down to her get her heart echo, I am hesitant to let her go. I know she's in good, capable hands and that all they are doing is hooking her up to a machine and taking pictures of her heart. But I'm still scared. I can't be with Casey while she has it done. And even though she's asleep, I still want to be there. I promised I wouldn't leave her side. What if she wakes up during the test and I'm not there? She'll be in pain from her ribs when she awakens. I want her hooked up to her IV getting sufficient pain medication when she first wakes up; not in a lab hooked up to machines alone.

The nurse notices my hesitancy and tries to reassure me. "It won't take long, I assure you. We'll bring her back up as soon as the echo is completed."

I nod, biting my bottom lip to keep the tears at bay as I stroke her cheek. "Be gentle with her, please? She has broken ribs. And I think she may be starting to wake up; she was flinching earlier."

"We'll be careful. She'll be right back," is the last thing the nurse says to me as she flips off the brakes on Casey's bed and begins to move it. I stop her halfway to the door and give Casey a kiss before I let her wheel my wife out of the room.

As soon as they're gone, I sit back down in my chair and put my face in my hands, sobbing loudly and uncontrollably. My mind just can't wrap itself around what is happening. It's all too unreal. This kind of shit happens to other people – not to me and my wife.

My fit of tears is interrupted by someone placing their hand on my shoulder. I jump and turn around quickly, finding myself face-to-face with Olivia, who is wearing a sympathetic and worried expression. "How's Casey? I saw them taking her down the hall….did something happen?"

I wipe my eyes with my sleeve and attempt to pull myself together. I have to clear my throat before I can speak. "They are taking her down to get a heart echo. She may have heart damage from the medication. But otherwise she is okay, apparently. Still asleep from the medication. She has broken ribs from when the paramedics did CPR. And she's going to have to have a psych evaluation."

Olivia nods and grabs a stool from across the room. She drags it over next to the chair and sits down, sighing heavily. By now I'm looking away from her, staring at the wall and lost in thought.

"Alex, I know how you're feeling, but _none _of this is your fault. You have to – "

I hold my hand, effectively cutting Olivia off. I'm not in the state of mind for a pep talk right now; not at all. No matter what Olivia says, I know it _is _my fault and there is nothing that is going to make me feel better right now. "Don't, Olivia. Just _don't. _I don't want to hear it."

Olivia nods and looks away from me. She knows better than to go any further on the subject. Each of us are lost in our collective thoughts until Olivia says, "You shouldn't have hit that reporter, Alex."

"She deserved it. You heard what she said. That is my _wife _she was talking about, Olivia! I couldn't just sit there and listen to it!"

"I know, Alex; I know," Olivia says softly. "I understand – I do. But you assaulted her. In front of witnesses. That was a mistake, Alex. She said she is going to press charges. That's the last thing you need right now."

I find myself looking at my hand as we're speaking. It suddenly throbs again as I'm reminded of the punch I threw. It's funny; I had forgotten about the pain in my hand until now, but now that I am thinking about it, it's all I can feel.

I continue to stare at my aching hand as I say, "Let her press charges. I really don't care right now, Olivia. What I care about is Casey. And Jenna getting justice."

Silence befalls us again before Olivia does another subject change. She knows me well enough to know she can't win when I'm like this. So she isn't even going to try. "What can I do to help? Would you like me to do anything right now?"

I turn and look at her, my teary eyes burning into hers. I see the sincerity of her words reflecting back at me. She really _does_ want to help. And as much as it isn't my style to do so, I'm going to ask her for help.

"I'm going to call Casey's father and my parents while Casey is getting her test. Could you maybe have someone go look for our dog? He ran away when the paramedics took Casey out of the house. I think he was scared. He was wearing his collar and is micro chipped, so hopefully he can be found. It would devastate Casey to lose him."

Olivia offers me a smile. "Of course. I'll call it in right now."

It's not typical for the NYPD to scour the city looking for a lost dog, but I know an exception will be made in this case.

"Anything else?"

I think for a moment. "Could you go by the house and make sure Casey's ferret has food and water? I'm not sure he got fed today…"

Olivia nods again. "You got it, Alex. I'll take care of it. And I'll call Renee; she'll help look for Blaze as well."

I'm about to respond, when I look up and see a nurse entering the room. She has an uneasy look on her face and locks her eyes directly on me. I stand, immediately filled with dread. Something happened to Casey…I know it…

Before I can get any words out, she says, "Mrs. Cabot…the police are here to talk to you."

**Uh-oh! Do you think Alex is in trouble? What are your predictions? Is she going to give up her job? Are they going to be able to get Jenna? And what do you think will happen to Casey? Casey wakes up in the next chapter, so you won't have long to wait. Please leave me a review and let me know what you think!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Sorry it has been so long since I updated! But I am back at the story :) Updates won't be as often as before - once a week and maybe sometimes a little longer, but I promise I won't give up on the story. Hope you are still interested! Enjoy :)**

**Casey's POV**

When I open my eyes, the first thing I am aware of is that I am not in my own bed and that my throat and stomach both hurt badly.

It takes me several seconds of taking in my surroundings and listening to machines beeping for me to realize that I'm in the hospital.

I slowly turn my head to the left, and I'm shocked to see Alex sitting in a chair next to my bed. She's clutching my hand lightly, and smiles when she sees me stirring. The smile reaches her eyes but I can't tell it's not a _real _smile – it's a smile of relief. She leans down and smoothes the hair back off my forehead and kisses me. "I'm so glad you're awake, baby."

The sadness in her eyes as she pulls away from me causes the memories to come flooding back and I suddenly remember how I ended up here.

I remember having dinner with Alex and her telling me that she wants us to move and she's considering giving up her job. I remember taking her car and coming home. I remember being very upset. I remember opening the medicine cabinet and taking her sleeping pills; how many, I don't know. I remember getting in bed crying and vomiting. And then I woke up here.

I tried to kill myself, and Alex knows it. I watch her closely as she strokes my cheek and tells me she loves me. A tear rolls down her cheek and she doesn't even try and stop it. I feel my heart lurch; my sweet Alex shouldn't be in this much pain. My beautiful wife shouldn't be crying. I shouldn't be doing this to her.

I'm so angry with myself – why did I fail at this too? Why didn't it work? Didn't I take enough pills?

I start to sob, and it causes pain in my stomach and my throat. Alex quickly kisses my forehead again. "Shh, baby. It's okay. Don't move around or talk – you have some broken ribs and they pumped your stomach."

I frown, completely ignoring what she just said, and I manage to squeak out, "Why does my throat hurt?"

Alex smiles that sad smile again. "They put a tube down your throat, honey. Don't try to talk right now. Just rest. Everything is going to be okay. The doctor is going to come in and talk to you. I'm supposed to call him when you wake up."

Alex is talking and I know her words have meaning, but my brain can't process them. It doesn't want to. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be in the hospital or have Alex worry over me. I don't want to talk to a doctor. I want to be gone, to be sparing Alex the pain she's feeling right now.

I turn my head away from Alex so she can't see the shame on my face and I shake my head, allowing my tears to come. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. Things were supposed to be easy for Alex now. She wouldn't have to give up her job or move away. She would be able to have a good life….without me being a burden to her.

But I failed at this just like I fail at everything else.

"Casey, please don't cry," Alex begs, and I can tell from her voice that she is crying. "Everything is going to be okay. You're going to get help."

I wish she would stop lying. Things _won't _be okay. And I don't _want _help. Only one thing would have made this better, and I've been denied that.

Alex moves to sit on the bed next to me, but I pull away from her. The sudden movement causes extreme pain in my ribs and I wince, but thankfully Alex can't see that. I can sense her hesitate a moment, and then she says quietly, "I am going to call the doctor in now. There are a few things he has to tell you. Things he can explain better than I can."

I just lay there with my back to Alex while she presses the call button for the nurse. I'm silently crying, my eyes squeezed shut so tightly that I think when I open them, this will all have been a dream. I'm aware of the nurse coming in and Alex quietly asking for the doctor to be sent in.

"I need to check her vitals first," I hear the nurse say, and she comes around to my side of the bed. She looks at the monitor above my head, and then smiles down at me. "How are you, Casey? Would you like a drink of water?"

I shake my head and bury my face in my pillow. How does she _think _I am? I tried to kill myself and failed, and my wife is falling apart at my bedside – I'm just fine and dandy. She asks me another question, but I don't raise my head. I can't look at her. I'm too ashamed.

Finally, she goes away. I hear her say something to Alex, but I can't make out what it is. Then I hear her footsteps exit the room.

I can feel the bed dip as Alex sits beside me. I visibly stiffen and she doesn't touch me, but she does lean down close to me, trying to coax me to sit back up. "Sweetheart," she says gently. "I know this is going to be hard, but the doctor does need to talk to you. There are some – " she clears the emotion from her voice before she finishes. "Some effects of the overdose that need to be discussed with you. And you need a psych evaluation. That's just standard."

My heart constricts and I squeeze my eyes closed tighter. There's no way I can talk about this with anyone.

"I'll be here with you, baby. I have to step out for the evaluation, but I'll be right in the hall. You aren't alone."

More time Alex has to be away from her job. More publicity for her and me. More letdowns for everyone.

Alex keeps talking to me, even though I am showing no reaction whatsoever. "The doctor will be in shortly. I called your parents. And mine. They are on their way here."

I start to cry again, and it feels as if someone is squeezing the life out of my heart. She called me parents…and the Cabot's. They know. They know what I've done, how selfish I've been. I already broke down in front Alex's parents once. Now they are going to think I'm crazy. Which I guess I am.

I wish Alex hadn't called them.

"Baby…" Alex says, her voice laced with tears. I hear her sniffle and that just makes me feel worse. "It breaks my heart to see you this way. It truly does."

It breaks mine to know that Alex is suffering this way. That I didn't rid her of my toxic existence.

This heartbreaking moment is saved by purposeful footsteps coming into the room and a voice – way too cheerful for this occasion – saying, "Casey – glad to see you awake. I'm doctor Stone and I'll be taking care of you."

He comes around the bed to where I have my head buried in the pillow and I can sense him standing right next to me. "I know you probably aren't feeling well. You're groggy and sore. We'll give you something for pain. But for now, there are things we need to discuss."

I don't move. I make no attempt to sit up or even show him that I heard him. I don't _want _to hear him.

Before I can stop her, Alex is sitting next to me again. She puts her hand on my back and rubs it gently. "Baby…please sit up so we can talk."

In one instant I angrily sit up, my ribs immediately screaming at me for my sudden movement. Alex looks surprised, and blinks a few times in shock. "Don't touch me, Alex!" I shout at her, as loudly as my hoarse, sore voice will let me yell. "Don't baby me! Stop trying to make me believe everything is okay!"

Hurt is apparent on Alex's face, but she keeps her voice steady and calm as she respects my wishes and gets up off the bed. "Okay, baby. Just stay calm, please. There are some very serious issues we need to discuss."

I know it's wrong, but I feel anger towards Alex. I feel awful that she's here dealing with me now, but I can't help but be resentful towards her. She called for help. She ruined my plan. Damn it, why didn't she just let me go?

I can feel myself on the verge of tears, so I sit upright against the pillows and draw my knees to my chest. This position causes my ribs to burn almost unbearably, but I can't stand to look at Alex or Dr. Stone right now.

Dr. Stone seems to sense my discomfort. "As I said, we'll do something for the pain you're feeling. And I'm going to have someone come in and talk to you as soon as we're done."

"I don't want to talk to anyone," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just want to go to sleep. I don't want to be here."

I think they both know what I mean. I hear Alex start to sob, and I can't take it. I can't take _this. _

"I want her to leave," I demand, my voice laced with sadness and guilt. "Alex. I don't want her here."

"Casey – " Alex starts to say.

I lift my head and scream at her. "Go! Get out! Are you fucking deaf?"

Tears are cascading down my cheeks and I hurt in an indescribable way as I watch Dr. Stone politely ask my wife to leave the room. Alex is crying harder than I've ever seen her cry, and I swear I can see her shaking as she heads for the door. She turns around and gives me a sad look and says, "I love you, baby," before she disappears from view.

That's as much as I can take. I turn back around and bury my face in my pillow, sobbing so hard that I think I can feel ribs that aren't already broken breaking. The pain is nagging at me, but it's nowhere near the emotional pain I feel inside of me right now.

Dr. Stone attempts again to get me sit up so he can speak to me about my "condition", but I scream at him and continue to sob. I scream that I wish I had died, and I want him and everyone else to just disappear.

I'm only vaguely aware of Dr. Stone calling for back up, but I'm fully aware of two nurses on either side of me on the bed, desperately trying to restrain me. I'm yelling and kicking at them, telling them to leave me alone, but it falls on deaf ears.

One of them manages to plunge a needle into my arm, and my only relief comes when I feel the sedative take effect and my eyes flutter shut.

**So...was it sad? Poor Casey :( And poor Alex! What do you think will happen? What did the doctor have to tell Casey? And will Alex tell her about hitting the reporter? How will it go with her parents? Review and let me know what you think!**

**Also, I have a story called "Silver Lining" I am working on. Just started it. It's an Alex/Casey friendship story. Check it out!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Here is your update! Took longer than I thought and I apologize. But I am pleased with how it turned out. Hope you enjoy!**

"Casey," the hospital psychologist, Dr. Taylor, prods me once again. "Casey, you have to talk to me. I'm only trying to help you."

I'm lying on the hospital bed with my back turned to her, playing with the hospital bracelet on my wrist and letting a tear slide down my cheek. If she _really _wanted to help me, she'd let me be. She wouldn't be in here. She wouldn't be trying to force me into talking about something I don't want to talk about.

It's been three days since I woke up. Three days since I screamed at my wife and had to be sedated. The worst three days of my life.

I haven't seen Alex since that first day. I told the nurses and Dr. Taylor that I didn't want Alex to be able to come into my room. It's too painful and difficult for us both. And since I'm the patient and on suicide watch under psych evaluation, they have to respect my wishes.

Even though I don't want to see Alex, it hasn't made her leave the hospital. Dr. Taylor told me she hasn't left once since I arrived and she asks about me every twenty minutes. That only makes me feel worse; Alex is so loyal and loving and look what I'm doing to her. I'm tearing her heart out and stomping on it.

My father and Alex's parents have been at the hospital as well, but I have refused to let them see me either. I can't find anyone in this guilt-ridden emotional state. They can't see me like this.

And for three days Dr. Taylor has come into my room three times a day, using that voice reserved for children and those who are fragile. Telling me she understands. I don't even look at her. I can hear her pen scratching across paper as she writes on my chart. Probably saying that I'm uncooperative and broken. Which is true.

But how can I put it into words?

"I can understand your reluctance to talk to me, Casey; really, I can," Dr. Taylor continues. "But I really am here to help. You have so many people who care about you. I've met your wife; she's always here, Casey. She loves you very much. She wants to help you. You have family and friends who want to see you and want you to get better."

There is no 'getting better' from this. Jenna has taken my self-respect and broken it. She's torn my soul out and left me an empty shell. I'm dirty and ashamed of myself for the lack of strength I showed. I used to be happy and comfortable in a perfect life with my Alex. Jenna took all that from me. I don't smile or laugh anymore. I only wallow in sadness and cry. And she gets to walk free, enjoying life. Everyone thinks I'm a liar and that Jenna is a saint. My wife wants to give up her career and move away from her family and friends and the only life she's ever known, because of me. How do I 'get better' from this?

Dr. Taylor starts talking again, and for some reason I blurt out, "I don't want to be here." My voice used to be filled with confidence and purpose. Now it's as hollow and broken as I am.

"You don't have to stay in this hospital, Casey. I'm going to get you help. I need to complete your evaluation and I will place you with a psychiatrist you can talk to two or three times a week, someone who can put you on the proper medication to make you feel better. If you cooperate and commit yourself to getting better, you can go home with your wife when the time is right. You don't have to stay here. But until you talk to me and until I find you are no longer a danger to yourself, you have to stay here."

I squeeze my eyes closed, another tear escaping. She misunderstood me. "No, I said I don't want to be _here,_" I repeat softly.

It takes her a moment to gather what I am saying. When she's fully processed it, she says, "You don't want to be alive." It's not really a question – more of a statement, a realization. One she should have arrived at before now. I hear more writing, and then the evitable, "Can you tell me why you feel that way?"

I don't want to talk to her. Everything inside of me is screaming at me to keep my back turned to her and to stay silent. But the other part of me – the logical part – knows she isn't going to give up until I give her what she wants.

I slowly roll over and face her. The movement causes extreme pain to my broken ribs and I involuntarily wince. They ache all the time and hurt whenever I move. I've been refusing pain medication; I deserve to feel this pain.

Once I'm sitting up properly and looking at Dr. Taylor, she smiles warmly at me. And I realize I've been her patient for three days but this is the first time she's actually seen any part of me besides my back. I can't bring myself to smile back, so I just nod and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, looking at the drab sheets on the bed.

"You have beautiful hair," she comments. "My daughter is a red head."

I know she's trying to personalize this and make me feel comfortable opening up to her, but I wish she wouldn't comment on how I look. My hair isn't beautiful. No part of me is beautiful. Not anymore.

I briefly meet Dr. Taylor's eyes once again and give her another small nod. I wonder if she can see how broken I am. I wonder if my eyes give it away. If they look as lifeless and empty to her as they do to me every time I look in the mirror.

I only get a second's reprieve before Dr. Taylor asks again, "Why don't you want to be here?"

I look down at the sheets on the bed, unable and unwilling to meet her gaze. "Because I'm worthless," I say softly; so softly that I'm afraid she may not have heard me.

"Why do you think you're worthless?"

I bite my lip, trying to keep my emotions at bay. There is a storm raging inside me, and it's taking everything I have to remain calm. "Because I let someone use me. And I hurt the woman I love."

I'm positive that Dr. Taylor knows about Jenna; either from reading or watching the news or from Alex. But she doesn't mention her. Not directly anyway. Instead she says, "It's common to feel that way when you've suffered a traumatic experience. Everyone deals with tragedy in different ways. Some of us have better coping skills than others."

When is she going to tell me something I don't know?

"You feel the way you feel, Casey, and no one can change that or criticize you for it," she goes on. "But what we can do is teach you how to deal with your grief and guilt in a way that is not harmful to you or anyone else. And that's what I'm going to do for you. I'm going to help you, and I'm the person I'm going to refer to when you leave the hospital is going to help you too."

I'm still staring at the bed sheets. Suddenly they are the most interesting thing I've ever seen. Tears are rolling down my cheeks. Dr. Taylor is so kind and wants to help me, and I don't deserve it. I don't deserve kindness. And nothing she or anyone else can do is going to help me.

"I know you don't like yourself very much right now," Dr. Taylor says, seemingly reading my mind. "I know you don't think you deserve help, and you don't _want _help. So I'm going to ask you to do something."

I finally raise my teary eyes and look at Dr. Taylor. "What?"

"I'm going to ask you to not do this for yourself. I'm going to ask you to do this for your father, the nice man I've spoken to on several occasions these past couple of days who loves his daughter. For your friends, who have phoned and came in almost a continuous flow. For your mother, who isn't here but loves you very, very much and doesn't want you to feel this way and wants you to live a happy life. For your in-laws, who are here right now and love you just like you're their own daughter."

My cheeks are hot and wet with tears and I don't make any attempts to stop them. All those people who love me…how could I have let them down?

And then Dr. Taylor invokes the ultimate weapon. "But mostly, Casey, I want you to do this for your wife, Alex. I know you love her more than anyone else on this earth. And she loves you just as much. She wants you to get better. She wants to be sitting by your side right now holding your hand. But she loves you so much that she's willing to respect your wishes and keep her distance right now, which is extremely hard for her. Do this for her. Accept help for _her. _If Alex were in your place, would you want her to give up?"

I shake my head wildly, trying to stop my tears. She hit me right where it mattered. Alex is my weakness. I love her so much that I can't put it into words.

"No; I wouldn't want her to give up. And I love her. I love her so much. But I've hurt her. I've disappointed her. I let this – " I swallow harshly, trying to find the right word. "This _thing _happen to me. I'm usually so tough and strong. I shouldn't have let this happen! I let her kiss me! I let her take me upstairs! I let her – " I have to stop talking, as I'm overcome with tears. Dr. Taylor gently encourages me and hands me a box of tissues. She no doubt knows who 'she' is and the situation I'm referring to.

I sob for several minutes until I've pulled myself together enough to say, "I didn't do enough to stop her. I know she drugged me, but it's still my fault. I must have led her on somehow. And now I'm not good enough for Alex. I'm dirty and wrecked, and Alex shouldn't want me or love me. She deserves someone stronger. Someone who won't hurt her."

"How do you figure you've hurt Alex? Or let her down?"

"Because I let this happen!" I yell again, letting the tears come again. "And now Alex wants to give up her job and our home. She wants to move away from the life she built for herself. That's something Alex would never do. But she wants to do it for me, and she shouldn't have to. She has to worry about me and alter her life for me, and it's not fair to her. She doesn't deserve that. I've barely let her touch, and she had to find me when – " I inhale sharply and cut myself off. I look away from Dr. Taylor again. "That's more than one person should have to bear. Alex deserves so much more. I was so selfish to do this."

"What Alex deserves is someone who loves her, and she has that. She's willing to give all that up because she loves you, Casey. She wants to do what is best for you both. She may have built a life for herself, but you have a life together now. Every action both of you takes affects the other. If you don't want Alex to give up her job and if you don't want to move, then you two need to talk and work that out. Listen to each other. But you can't accomplish that until you've committed yourself to getting better. And suicide is not a selfish act, Casey; it may seem that way, but it isn't. Those in your state of mind are thinking only of the people they love when they make that decision. Thinking it's going to be easier for them now, when in fact, the opposite is true. You are not a selfish person, Casey. And you aren't worthless. You're a very valuable person who is loved greatly."

I hear Dr. Taylor's words and I see the logic in them, but I can't shake this feeling that I don't deserve Alex and the she deserves someone better than me. How can I get that across to her?

I start to pick at a loose thread on the sheets, and suddenly my beautiful wedding ring catches my eye. The symbol of me and Alex's love. And my mind flashes back to our wedding day. How beautiful Alex looked in her dress, and how deliriously happy I had been that I was marrying the woman I loved. It was the best day of my life.

I let some more tears fall as I say, "I love Alex."

"I know you do," Dr. Taylor says, handing me the box of tissues once again. I take one out and dab my eyes as she continues. "Things can get better, Alex. Let's talk a little longer and we can go from there, all right? I can even have Alex come in and talk to you if you'd like."

I swallow around the lump in my throat and shake my head. As much as I love Alex, I can't face her right now. "I – I don't want to her see her right now. I – I'm not ready."

Dr. Taylor nods. "That's ok, Casey; we'll take this one step at a time, ok?"

I nod in agreement, but I'm not sure if I'm strong enough for all this.

* * *

**Alex's POV**

"Honey, you have to start eating more," my mother says from her chair across from me.

I pick around at my salad and shake my head. We're sitting in the hospital cafeteria, at my mother's insistence. She threatened to force feed me in front of the entire hospital staff if I didn't comply. And knowing my mother, she would have followed through with her threat. So here I am, eating a salad I don't want and drinking overly sweetened Sprite from the soda fountain.

This is the last place I want to be. I want to be with Casey. It's been almost four days since I've seen her. I've lived at this hospital; I haven't set foot out the doors since Casey was brought here. My mother has been bringing me clothes from home. I've taken a leave from my job. Temporary, until I figure out what I want to do, where Casey and I are going from here. Until I get this Jenna thing taken care of.

I don't think I've ever been so worried in my life. I've cried more in the past three days than I ever thought possible. When you're told that the person you love more than your life doesn't want to see you, it's devastating. Of course I understand and I'm willing to give Casey as much space as she needs, but it's taken a toll on me. I don't eat or sleep, I worry constantly, and I just plain miss Casey. It breaks my heart into a thousand pieces to know that she felt so hopeless that she thought this was the only way out. And I didn't see how bad it had gotten.

Casey's father is a wreck as well. He's out with my father right now – mother asked him to take him out and get his mind off things. I'm not sure what they are doing; if I were him, I'd be getting drunk.

As bad as things are, I did get some good news today. Stephanie Taylor, the hospital psychiatrist, talked to me at length. She said that Casey finally opened up to her and she felt she made some good progress, considering the situation. She couldn't disclose what was said; only that Casey did talk and still wishes not to see me at this time. I feel a little encouraged by this. Casey hasn't spoken a word to anyone in three days. Opening up is a big deal. Dr. Taylor is confident that she can get Casey out of the hospital within the week, considering she continues to open up and agrees to the treatment plan. At this time she's still refusing pain meds for her ribs. I asked Dr. Taylor to try and talk her into getting them; I hate to think of Casey being in pain unnecessarily.

The thought of possibly taking Casey home by this weekend both makes me happy and terrifies me at the same time. I know they won't release Casey until they are certain she is out of her suicidal state of mind, but I still have to tread very lightly. I still have to watch her. I'm fully aware that she is most likely still going to need space. I'm going to let her know I'm there for her when she needs me, but I'm not going to crowd her. We won't talk about my job or the prospect of moving until she starts seeing her regular therapist and until she's ready. I don't want to make things stressful or difficult for her. My job is to be there and love her – and that I will do.

"I talked to Olivia today," mom chatters on, trying to keep the conversation light. "I'm so glad she found someone to be happy with. And she told me that your dog Blaze was found – why didn't you tell me?"

I shrug, stabbing a piece of lettuce with my plastic fork. "I guess I forgot. The dog isn't a big priority right now, mom. I'm glad he is okay and found, of course, but all I'm worried about is Casey. Liv and Renee are taking care of him until Casey gets home. I'm sure she's going to be glad to see him. Animals are therapeutic. Maybe it will help. They have the ferret too."

Mom smiles at that. "Casey and her animals. She loves them, doesn't she?"

I smile, for the first time in days. "She does. It's so adorable to watch her playing with that damn ferret. And Blaze is always stuck to her like Velcro." I laugh as I think about my gorgeous wife and her pets, and an instant later, I'm sad and tears fill my eyes. I miss my happy, peppy Casey. I want her back.

I put my fork down and I start to cry, covering my face with my hands. I'm so angry at myself; I managed to go the whole day without crying, even after Dr. Taylor talked to me. I held myself together so well. And now here I am, crying my eyes out in the cafeteria, with several pairs of eyes on me.

"Oh, honey," mom says, getting out of her chair and coming around to my side of the table. She crouches down to my height and puts her arm around my trembling shoulders, rubbing my back gently and talking soothingly to me.

I completely give it to her. I turn to her and wrap my arms around my mother, hugging her tightly and sobbing as hard as I can. I'm nearly forty years old but yet I desperately need my mother right now. And I'm not ashamed to admit or show it.

Mom holds me as I cry myself out. I don't know how much time goes by, but I do know that when I finally pull away from her and manage a small smile, I feel somewhat better. I needed to release my emotions almost as much as I needed my mom.

She gives my hand a squeeze and then goes back and sits down once she has satisfied herself that I'm not to break down again. She locks her eyes on me and says seriously, "Alex, I honestly believe everything is going to be all right. You and Casey love each other. A love that strong can conquer anything. Casey needs time to get through this. But she also needs you."

I nod in agreement. "It's just so hard," I tell her. "She hasn't been my Casey in so long. Casey was always happy. She made anything fun. She was so sweet; she'd write me a handwritten love letter every week." My eyes fill with tears as I think about my most prized possession; the book of letters at home. "She complied them all into a book for me and added it to every week. We'd cuddle up together in bed and she'd read her most recent letter to me. It was the highlight of my week. Now she hasn't written in so long. I miss that. I miss holding her in my arms at night. Showering with her. Her making breakfast for me. Her laugh, and her smile and the way her green eyes lit up every time she'd see me."

I realize I'm lamenting as if Casey is _gone_ instead of still here. But in a way, I guess she is.

"She lost her light, mom. Jenna took that from her. That lying, conniving bitch gets to walk around with a smile while my wife has to deal with the fallout. Jenna is a good liar; everyone believes her. It's been on the news and in the papers; making Casey out to be a liar. It's disgusting, mom. Disgusting and wrong."

I don't know why I felt the need to tell my mother that – she was already aware. She reads the papers and watches the news. I guess I just needed to say it.

"It is wrong. It truly is, and I wish there was something you could to change that. It's awful that there isn't. I don't think Jenna should be allowed to get away with this either. But Alex, you can't hold onto this forever. You and Casey have to move forward. I'm not saying forget about it; because neither of you ever will. But you can't dwell on Jenna not paying for what she did. You know better than anyone that there is nothing you can with lack of evidence. I know you are thinking of a civil suit, but honestly, do you want to put Casey through that? It's a crime that Casey's name has been dragged through the mud. But you know in your heart that she is telling the truth. Casey knows, I know, and everyone else who loves Casey knows. And that means something, even if everyone else can't see it."

My mother is a wise woman, that's for sure. She's absolutely right, but how can I just let it go? Jenna destroyed Casey's life. As a lawyer, I just can't let that go. I'm not finished weighing up our options in regards to her.

I want to tell my mom about hitting that reporter from the Post – Elaine Traynor. I know it was wrong, but also quite justified. I want to tell her about how Elaine called the police and I had to use my status and connections to get out of it. But right now doesn't seem the right time. And I have to tell Casey. I can't keep it from her. When she's feeling better, I have to tell her. Especially because there is a chance that Elaine can decide to file a civil suit against me. But that's the least of my worries right now.

Mom's wisdom session is apparently over. She takes a sip of her coffee and then changes the subject completely. "Did I see that Senator here today? The one Casey used to work for?"

"Yes; Ryan Palmer. He's stopped by every day."

"Don't you think that's a bit inappropriate? He just won his re-election; he doesn't need to showboat at a hospital. It seems he would want to distance himself from this all this anyway. You had mentioned he wanted Casey to come back to work for him; this isn't the way to accomplish that."

I look at my mom in disbelief. "He's concerned about Casey. He does want her to come back to work, but this has nothing to do with that. He was at the fundraiser that night – it was at _his _house. He believes Casey. And I think he feels a bit responsible."

"It just seems a little inappropriate to me, Alex."

"It's not. He isn't here to be on the news or talk Casey into coming back to work for him – he comes here because he cares about Casey. He tried to help me talk the DC District Attorney into filing charges on Jenna. He saw something in Casey that few did, and gave her a great opportunity. Casey loved that job. She was great at it. He is legitimately Casey's friend, mom. Her other friends are allowed to be here. I don't see a problem at all."

Mom quickly changes the subject again. "Do you think Casey will go back to work?"

I sigh and shove my plate away from me. "I don't know, mom. I can't do this right now. I can't talk about the future. I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know what I'm going to do about my job, what Casey's going to do, whether we're going to stay here or move, whether we'll go after Jenna….I just don't know. I am going to take this one day at a time. My only immediate concern is Casey and getting her home and keeping her well. That's all I care about right now. The rest we'll tackle when we come to it."

My mom picks up the newspaper that's lying on the table and starts to unfold it. As quickly as she unfolded it, she quickly closes it. Her eyes go to mine and she discreetly places the paper in her lap. "You know what? Why don't we go for a walk?"

I have known my mother my whole life; I know when she's hiding something. She saw something in that paper she didn't want me to see.

I hold out my hand. "Mom – give me that paper."

She smiles at me. "It's such a nice day! Let's go get some fresh air – "

I stand up. "Mom!"

She knows I'll get that paper one way or another. Hesitantly, she picks it up off her lap and hands it to me.

I take it from her and sit back down, unfolding it to the first page. And then I immediately see it.

It's an article written by none other than Elaine Traynor; an article about Jenna and how Casey's "accusations" ruined her career.

I get two paragraphs into the article, and I slam the paper down on the tabletop angrily. "Are you kidding me? Jenna gets to accuse Casey of ruining _her _life?! She wants to sue Senator Palmer's office for wrongful discharge? You have to be kidding me!"

I am so angry that my blood feels like it's about to boil. Jenna is allowed to say those things, and Elaine gets to print this? It's assassinating Casey's character. Its libel, and I don't intend to lie down and take it.

I intend on going down to the Post and putting a stop to this.

**So, what did you think? Is Casey going to continue to accept help? Will she want to see Alex soon? And what is Alex going to do about that reporter? Do you think she should just let it go? And what about Jenna - what do you think is going to happen? Please review and let me know what you thought about this chapter!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Update took longer than I thought - I apologize! I've been busy. But here it is; enjoy!**

I go home that night. Not to sleep, but to work on a project.

After the talk with my mom, I had formed an idea in my head. Something that just may help Casey realize how much she's loved.

I go directly into our bedroom, grab my laptop, and sit down on the bed. While it's booting up, I take a look around the room and my heart sinks down to my stomach. I haven't been in here since I found Casey.

The room is eerily quiet. Usually Casey is jabbering away with the TV on, talking about her day or our plans for the weekend while I'm typing away nosily, finishing up paperwork from the day. Once Casey decides I've been at it long enough, she'll slide over to me and lay her head on my shoulder, giving me a kiss and telling me to pay attention to her. This always results in me shutting the computer down and giving her exactly what she wants. Her green eyes sparkle when she realizes she has just where she wants me.

A chill goes through me as I picture her lying unconscious in our bed, and I have to close my eyes and shake the memory away. It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen; something I never want to say again. And thank goodness Olivia and Renee called a carpet cleaning service to take care of the vomit on the floor by the bed. I think I would have broken down if I had to do it myself.

I sigh sadly as I type my password into the computer. What I wouldn't give to be watching one of Casey's shows that I hate. Or feeling her head lying on my shoulder. But here I am, alone, trying desperately to put something together that will bring Casey back to herself.

Once I'm logged on, I immediately open my picture file. Hundreds of thumbnails appear, and I click on the first one I see. My screen is immediately filled with Casey's beautiful smile, her perfect red hair, and her soulful green eyes. It's a picture of Casey sitting in the park, her hand on Blaze's back. She's smiling at the camera like she's the happiest woman on earth, wearing a faded pair of blue jeans and a purple blouse I had bought for her. I leave the picture open and just stare at it, and as I do, a tear slides down my cheek. I miss my Casey so much. So, _so _much.

I feel like I could curl up on the bed and cry and cry until I have no tears left. Cry until the sun comes up. Cry until my world turns perfect again.

But I don't –I can't. I have to do this for Casey. I have to stay strong for her. I want her to have something from my heart to hold in her hands in the morning.

So I take a deep breath and get to work. I spend the next several hours searching through the hundreds of pictures on my computer and selecting the perfect ones. I laugh and cry at the memories that come along with them. Once I've got a good collection, I go through and pick out fifty of my favorites and go into my home office to print them out. While the photos are printing, I find an old empty photo album in the back of my closet which will work perfectly.

I spend the next couple of hours cutting out the printed photos and taping them into the photo album, once on each page. And under each photo, I handwrite a memory to go along with it. Handwriting is more personal. Casey always used to handwrite my letters. It takes more time, and shows the person you care. The writing flows freely and easily, and I wear a smile the entire time.

By seven AM, the project is done. And I am now looking at an album that contains fifty of the best photos of my wife and I together, complete with my handwritten captions. As I hold the album in my hand I know it's complete, yet something seems to be missing.

It needs to be personalized. I open the album and write on the inside cover, "_Casey – They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and I think this collection proves that's true. But what they don't say is that a picture is worth a thousand memories as well. These are some of my favorite memories. When I'm sad, they make me smile. They make me smile because of you; because __**you **__made the memory worth remembering. I've never loved another person as much as I love you. I hope the following memories make you smile too. – Your loving wife, Alex." _

I'm light-headed and shaky from hunger, so I quickly make a bagel and force myself to eat it before I leave the house again. I'm neglecting everything in my life and I know it. The house needs to be cleaned, we need groceries, I need to go check on Blaze, I have to check on my temporary replacement at work…there's so much to do, yet only one thing really _matters _– Casey.

When I get back to the hospital, my parents and Casey's dad are in the waiting room again. I immediately give out smiles and my mother comes up to hug me. "Alex, honey, did you get any sleep?"

I decide to lie to pacify her. "A little. I made something for Casey," I tell her as she pulls away from me. My father hugs me next, and then Casey's dad wraps me in a big hug. As he lets me go, I notice the worry etched on his face. It matches my own. I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder. "Casey is going to be okay – once she's out of here, I'll take care of her. I promise you."

I realize it's the first time I've actually _said _those words; it's usually everyone else telling _me _that Casey is going to be okay. Comforting _me. _But looking at Casey's dad – my father-in-law – I realize it's time for me to reassure someone else. And as I say the words, my heart believes them.

Casey's dad thanks me and we all sit down. Everyone has questions about the album, but I won't show it to them. It's private; for Casey's eyes only. I hold it tightly to my chest as I explain what it is. My answer seems to suffice; as everyone smiles and my mother touches my cheek and tells me how lucky Casey is to have me. I think it's the other way around.

We talk until I spot a familiar face at the nurse's station; a young nurse named Nancy, who has been fielding my many, many questions over the past five days with patience and care and making sure I have everything I need to be comfortable at the hospital. After Casey is released, I'm going to get her and the entire nursing staff a gift for being so kind to us.

Nancy smiles and greets me as I approach the station. "Miss Cabot! How are you this morning?"

I have told her several times to call me Alex, but she refuses to comply. I flash her a smile. "I'm doing better this morning. Listen, I wonder if you may do me a favor?"

"Of course. What can I do with you?"

"I know Casey isn't ready to see me yet, and I have some business to take care of for a few hours. I was wondering if you could give her something for me?" I lay the album down on the counter. After Dr. Taylor sees her this morning, could you see to it that she gets this?"

Nancy looks at the album and then back at me. She doesn't even ask me what it is. It's like it doesn't matter; she knows it's important. She flashes me another smile and takes the album. "I will personally give it to her, Miss Cabot."

I feel a huge weight has been lifted off me. "Thank you so much. I'll be back in a couple hours."

I have to hold back tears as I walk back to my parents and Casey's father. Casey is going to see the album…I'm happy and frightened at the same time. What if I did the wrong thing? What if it's too much for her to handle right now?

My mother seems to sense my apprehension. I'm standing frozen in place, wondering if I've made a huge mistake when my mother gets up and takes my hand, squeezing it and bringing me back to reality. "You did the right thing, Alex. Casey needed that."

I'm holding back a sob as I whisper, "I know – and so did I," as my mother wraps me in a hug again. In that instant, I feel I really _did _make the right decision. This may just help Casey on her road to recovery. And maybe even encourage her to want to see me.

My eyes are shining with unshed tears as I pull away from my mother. I force a smile at her. "I have to go do something. It won't take long. If anything happens or Casey asks for me, will you call me?"

My mother nods and smiles. "Of course."

She doesn't ask me where I'm going, and I'm thankful for that. I know she'd try and talk me out of what I'm about to do, and I won't let that happen.

I'm going to confront both Jenna and Elaine, and I'm doing it _now._

As soon as I step off the elevator at _The Post _headquarters, I feel dozens of sets of eyes on me. It's just after nine AM and the place is buzzing with activity. Phones are ringing off the hooks and keyboard keys are clicking away.

But in the midst of this activity, everyone seems to notice me. I'm no stranger to the news circuit, and considering what's happening in my life now, I'm one of _The Post's _favorite targets. I've walked right into the lion's cage.

I ignore all the gasps and whispers as I walk past sets of desks, keeping my stride confident and sure. I don't want to waver in my façade; I need to stay strong and confident. Everyone in this room would like a piece of me right now; if I gave them an impromptu interview it would make their careers. But I'm here to see one person and one person only.

Elaine Traynor is part of the senior staff, and because of this, I know she has her own office. So I stride up to the office directory on the back wall and take a look.

"Mrs. Cabot?" a male voice from my left asks hesitantly. I turn and see a middle-aged man in a suit and tie staring at me. He approaches me carefully. "Can I help you with something?"

I'm not about to waste my time with small talk, so I look directly at him and say, "I'm looking for Elaine Traynor."

I can't describe the look on his face as he processes what I've just said. It's as if he knows exactly what this about and what's about to happen. He actually swallows and points down the hallway. "Second office on the left. She should be in there; she usually comes in early."

I don't even thank him as I turn and head down the hall. I want to get to Elaine's office before she has time to be warned that I'm about to storm in and lay my angry wife wrath down on her.

Her door is closed when I reach her office, and I'm staring at her name on a gold nameplate on her door. I want to tear it down like she's torn Casey down. I know I should knock, but this situation doesn't call for politeness, so I open the door and barge right in.

Elaine is seated behind her desk on her cell phone, and her mouth drops open in shock as I come in and stand in front of her. She nearly drops her phone but manages to sputter out, "I'll call you back, I'll call you back," before quickly putting the phone down on her desk and climbing to her feet. "Mrs. Cabot, what are you – "

"Save it," I spit out venomously. "I won't take up much of your time. I know you have other lives to ruin."

Elaine's panic seems to subside somewhat and she appears to calm. "Given the nature of our last meeting, I don't think you being here is very appropriate."

I smile smugly at her. "Don't worry – I won't hit you again. This time my weapons are words." I pause a moment and then add, "Although I don't deny that hitting you was the highlight of my day."

Elaine scoffs and looks down at her desk nervously. "You said you wouldn't take up much of my time, so get on with it. I have deadlines to meet."

I lock my eyes on hers and take another step toward her desk. I can tell she's intimidated by me, and I'm going to use this to my advantage. "I want you to stop printing those lies about Casey."

Elaine looks away from me again. "I print the facts of the stories I'm given."

"Those aren't the 'facts'. And Casey isn't a story; she's my wife. She's a real, living, breathing human being who had something horrible done to her. Your on-sided reporting is libel, and I want you to desist immediately."

"Well then we have a problem," Elaine says cockily, finally raising her eyes to look at me. "Your wife is big news, Mrs. Cabot. The district attorney's wife is having an affair with a colleague in Washington DC, cries rape before it comes to light, and then attempts suicide? If you expect us to leave that alone, you're living in a fantasy world. You've played this game long enough; you know how it works."

I can feel myself start to shake already. I'm so angry. "I'm not playing a game. And Casey was not having an affair. Jenna Fisher _raped _her. If you were in indeed reporting the 'facts', this is what people would read. Instead, you print those lies that Jenna feeds you and you spin them to make it sound as bad as possible. You don't even stop to think about Casey's side of it."

"Casey has had plenty of opportunities to tell her side; we've contacted her for interviews several times. I'm guessing every news station and newspaper in New York has. She's kept quiet and not said a word and played the victim in silence. No evidence was found against Jenna. There were no witnesses. It's Casey's word against Jenna's, and Jenna is the only one talking. So of course we're going to print what she says."

"Even though it's all vicious lies?"

Jenna lets out a little laugh and looks at her desk again. "A person shouldn't let their silence speak for them. What are you going to do, Mrs. Cabot? Go to every paper and TV station that has reported on this story, and give them all a little speech about compassion? Tell them how 'great' your wife is?"

That angers me. I step forward again. "Do not talk about Casey. You don't know her. You don't know what this whole thing has done to her. You haven't been there every – " I stop myself in mid-sentence and close my eyes. Elaine's right; a speech about compassion is going to fall on deaf ears, so I'm better off saving my breath. "I know what happened that night. Jenna knows what happened that night. She is a liar."

"We have no evidence to the contrary, Mrs. Cabot, so I will report accordingly. Jenna Fisher has been more than cooperative with us."

It's my turn to scoff in disgust. "Oh, I'm sure she has. Making a name for herself by spreading lies. Perhaps she'll even write a book."

Elaine sighs and tries to step around. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Mrs. Cabot. I have a meeting to get to."

"Not until I say this," I switch into uber-bitch mode and put on my no-nonsense face. "If you continue with this 'story' and those lies about my wife, I'll shut you down. You'll find out what it's like down at the unemployment office."

Elaine looks away, but I can see fear evident in her eyes. She knows who I am, and the power that I possess. "I'm going to have to ask you to adjust your tone. There's no reason to – "

"Please take my tone as an indication of my anger. And know that I have the ability and means to act upon my anger. You like being cooped up in this tiny little office sitting at a computer ruining people's lives? You want to still be doing it next week?" Elaine looks at me but doesn't respond. The look on her face says it all. "Then you back off my wife. Find another 'story'. Casey is off-limits."

When Elaine finally speaks again, her voice is unsteady. "You think my boss will just let me _drop _it? We don't look the other way on big news."

"I think that's your problem," I tell her coldly. I catch her gaze again and hold it, letting her know just how serious I am. "If I see one more article implying that Casey did anything wrong, consider yourself unemployed."

Before she can respond further, I turn and leave her office, slamming the door behind me.

* * *

It only takes me fifteen minutes to reach my next destination – Jenna's house.

I'm sitting in my car across the street from her quaint little white house, shaking my head at how beautiful the neighborhood seems to be. Yards are nicely kept, backyards are fenced in, and the house next door has a swing set and sandbox. Too bad the people that live there are oblivious to the fact that they live next door to a rapist.

I had to strong-arm Olivia to get me Jenna's address. I kicked around the idea of asking Senator Palmer for her contact information, but came to the conclusion that he'd use logic to try and talk dissuade me from going to see Jenna. Olivia did the same thing. She used every argument in the book, even going as far as questioning my judgment in light of everything that has happened.

But I don't care. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Jenna can't be allowed to live in her perfect little house in her perfect little neighborhood while Casey is in that hospital because of her. She has to be made aware that I know what really happened, and that I have no intentions of letting her get away with it.

I sit there for about ten minutes before I have the courage to get out of my car and walk across the street to her driveway. As I'm walking up, I wonder if she can see me out the window right now. If she knows what's about to happen, just how angry I am.

I walk right up to her front door and ring the bell. I hear a dog bark, and then footsteps quickly approaching the door. I hear the sound of the door being unlocked, and then suddenly I'm face-to-face with Jenna, the woman who destroyed my Casey's life.

She looks momentarily shocked to see me. She stands there holding the door open, her eyes wide with surprise. But only seconds later she shakes her head and a smile plays at her lips. "Alex Cabot. What a pleasure to see you again."

I don't even speak. I'm holding back rage of a magnitude I didn't even think was possible. I knew seeing her would be difficult, but I didn't know it would feel like this._ She_ put my Casey in the hospital. _She _touched my Casey. _She _is the cause of everything that has happened. Every emotion possible is mixing together inside of me as I stand on Jenna's front porch.

She seems to sense my intense rage, and actually seems to _enjoy _it. She opens her door wider and steps out. "Did you come to apologize for all the trouble your wife has caused me? Did you come to ask me to be a witness at your divorce hearing?"

Trouble that _Casey _has caused?

I open up my mouth to speak, but I instantly close it as I get a good look at Jenna. She's standing right in front of me now, and I actually feel a chill go through me. She's a psychopath; there's no question. She is acting as if I came over for friendly afternoon of girl talk around the TV. There's no hint of remorse or feeling in her eyes or actions at all.

But there _will _be when I'm done with her.

I swallow harshly and try to suppress my emotions. I know this can't happen standing on her front porch; I can't take the chance that anyone could witness it. As much as I don't want to, I have to get inside her house.

So with every ounce of self-control I have, I look at Jenna and ask, "May I come in?"

**So, what are your thoughts? Will the photo album help Casey? Do you think Elaine will really back off? And what will go down with Alex and Jenna? Please leave me a review and let me know what you think!**


	23. Chapter 23

**All I can say is this - hope you are ready for this chapter :)**

**Casey's POV**

The first thing I'm aware of when I wake up the next morning is the awful burning pain in my ribs. It kept me up most of the night; I think I only got about two hours sleep. Between the pain and everything else on my mind, it's impossible to sleep. Dr. Taylor keeps telling me how important rest is for me. I think I'm nearly to the point where I'll accept pain medication and something to help me sleep. Maybe a long, deep sleep would greatly improve my outlook on everything.

"Good morning," a cheerful voice calls out as my morning nurse comes into the room. She smiles at me as she goes over to open the blinds, letting the daylight in and nearly blinding me. It's Nancy, my favorite morning nurse. She is always so friendly and chipper, even when I'm at my most impossible. She comes over and checks my vitals as she does every morning and then asks me how I slept.

"Not well," I confess, watching her jot down all my information on my chart. "My ribs really hurt a lot last night."

"It's going to take you a while to heal," Nancy tells me. "I wish you would reconsider about the pain medication. You keep saying you don't deserve it, but I promise you it will make a difference. I can consult with Dr. Taylor on which medication would be the best for you and wouldn't interfere with your anti-depressants."

The word 'anti-depressant' changes my entire attitude. I look away from Nancy and frown. "I haven't started taking them yet. Dr. Taylor is going to start me on them today. But I'm not sure I want them. I know I can't get out of here until I take them, but…I don't want them."

Nancy pauses. "Why don't you?"

I scoff at her. "Why would I want them? Would you be happy if you had to take crazy drugs?"

"It in no way means you are crazy, Casey. It's the first step to getting better."

I look away, playing with my sheet nervously between my fingers. "You aren't my shrink; be my nurse. Just tell me how I'm doing this morning." I realize I'm being rude, but I can't help it. My mental health is hard for me to talk about. I don't want to discuss it first thing in the morning with my nurse.

Nancy changes gears very quickly and happily obliges. "Your vitals are good. Your cardiologist is going to see you again today. He's probably going to want another EKG within the next couple of days so he can figure out the proper drug regimen for your heart."

I cringe as I hear her words and a new hatred for myself comes over me. I was told that I have irreversible heart damage caused from my overdose, and as a result, I'm going to need to be on heart medication and get check-ups every three months for the rest of my life. I know I was lucky; it could have been _much _worse. I could have had a heart attack, or the damage could have been so severe that I needed a pacemaker. But the fact remains that I had a healthy heart, and now I don't. Because of a stupid thing I did to myself.

I say nothing in response as she goes on. I don't know _what _to say. I'm about to sink back into my depressive state again. It's just that easy for me to go from one extreme to the other.

"Here's the breakfast menu. I want you to eat this morning," Nancy says, dropping a paper menu on my lap. "I know our food isn't exactly gourmet, but you need your strength. If you'd like to have your father or Alex bring you in something, that can be arranged as well."

As soon as she mentions Alex, I feel my heart clench. It's been days since I've seen her. Days since I've touched her or had her touch me. Days since I have been with her at all. Actually, if I were being completely honest with myself, it's been _weeks _since I've had her. I've been with her, but I haven't actually _been _there.

Nancy suddenly goes over to where she set down her chart and picks up some kind of thick book. She brings it over and gently sits it down on my lap. "Alex wanted me to give you this."

I look down at the object in my lap. It appears to be some kind of album. I make no attempt to open it and treat it like it was radioactive. I feel my breath catching in my throat. "W-what is it?" I finally manage.

"I don't know; but I think you should look at it. It seemed very important to Alex."

I'm staring at the album cover so hard that I'm shocked it doesn't turn to dust right before my eyes. This was the last thing I expected this morning.

"Well," Nancy says, so cheerful that I jump. "I have other patients to tend to. Dr. Taylor will be by in about an hour. Please select something from the breakfast menu and buzz us when you're ready to order. And please – look at that album."

I'm still staring at it as Nancy turns and leaves the room. I don't know how long I sit there staring at it, but the red cover is beginning to look brown to my eyes.

How can I open it? How can I look at something Alex wanted me to see? I've hurt her so much…why would she give me this? What's inside it, anyway?

I shake my head and put the album on the tray next to me. I don't want anything to do with whatever is inside this album. I can't deal with Alex, and I can't deal with my feelings. I know what I've done to her. I know how deeply I've hurt her. I don't need to look at some stupid book to tell me that.

I lay down, wincing at my burning ribs, and pull my blanket up around me. I'm shivering; but not from the cold. I'm shivering from the things I've done, from the way I feel. From the absolute desolation I feel inside.

I wonder if I really can be fixed? Is it possible that there is just no hope for someone? That once they're broken, it's for good? That they become a lost cause? Is it really worth it for Dr. Taylor to put any effort into me at all?

I mean really, what do I have to offer now? I tried to take the coward's way out of life, and I hurt the person I love the most in this world in the worst way possible. How can I recover from that?

As I lay there shivering under my blanket, the album catches my attention again. I know I don't deserve to see it, but maybe looking at it will give me some insight into what Alex was thinking when she asked Nancy to give it to me.

I sit back up and slowly take the album off the tray. It feels heavy and that causes my heart to clench again. I put it on my lap and as my hand rests on the cover, I take a deep breath. Then I flip open the front cover.

The first thing I am greeted with is Alex's beautiful handwriting jumping out at me. I actually feel sick as I force myself to read the words she so carefully wrote for me. And I don't even make it halfway through the message before tears are cascading down my cheeks and I have to wipe them away to clear my vision. The words I just read came from Alex's heart, and I know it. The heart I broke into a million pieces.

I soon discover it's a photo album, and the first photo I see makes me forget my momentary sorrow and a smile spreads across my face. It's a photo from back when we were dating, before we were even engaged. It was taken in my office; me sitting in my chair and Alex practically strangling me with her arm around my neck. We're both grinning like lovestruck teenagers. It's amazing that even back then our eyes are sparkling with happiness and love. We loved each other so much from the very beginning.

Under the photo, I see Alex's neat handwriting again. It says, "_Remember when this was taken? You had been teasing me about the wallpaper on my laptop. I used a standard pre-loaded wallpaper, and you said it was 'uncool' and ugly. I remember coming back from court and flipping open my laptop – and being greeted with a new wallpaper. It was your up-close smiling face, and you were grinning and holding a note that said, 'Hi, Alex!'. You had taken it with my webcam and set it as the wallpaper. It had been a bad day, but that instantly made it better. I couldn't stop laughing. And then I went to see you in your office to tell you I'd found it. You were meeting with Nick and we asked him to take our picture. This was my first favorite photo of us."_

I remember that very well, and I actually laugh out loud as I think about it. When I had discovered that Alex had been using the standard wallpaper on her Macbook, I knew I had to rectify it immediately. So after teasing her to no end and she _still _didn't change it, I took matters into my own hands. It was such a goofy, stupid picture. But you know what? Alex used it as her wallpaper for months until she changed it to a picture of the two of us together. I'll never forget that.

The next picture I see is one I snapped with my phone from above; the two of us cuddled up on the couch. I'm wearing my plaid pajama pants and Alex has on her silk pajamas. I'm basically using Alex as a human pillow, and she has her hand in my hair. I smile as I think about how much Alex loves my hair. She says it's the softest hair in the world, but I know that isn't true; the softest hair in the world is _her _hair. Under this picture Alex has written, _"My favorite way to spend an evening; relaxing with the woman I love. And her adorable pajama pants and Batman blanket."_

I'm smiling and laughing as I go through the next several pages. All the memories that are coming back to me are good, and Alex's heartfelt notes about each picture add such a personalized touch. She really put a lot of effort into this. It's like a timeline of our relationship; she started with a picture of us early in our relationship and before I know it, I'm looking at the most beautiful picture I've ever seen – our wedding photo.

I feel tears spring to my eyes as I look at it, and slowly I start to sob. Alex is so beautiful in her wedding dress; so, so beautiful. I'm in my bridal tiara and we're holding hands and wearing matching blissfully happy smiles. It was the best day of both of our lives, and the happiness and love we both felt on that day just radiates off the picture.

My eyes go to the note underneath._ "I've made a lot of accomplishments in my life and have a lot of things to be proud of and happy about. But everything I've ever done pales in comparison to you becoming my wife; becoming Casey Cabot. I have never seen a more beautiful sight than you in your wedding dress and sparkly tiara. When I saw you walking down the aisle, my heart actually stopped. I wondered what I did to deserve such a blessing in my life. And when you said your vows and we kissed the first time as wives, it was the happiest moment of my life. In that instant, it was only __**you **__that mattered. Not my Harvard degree, not my job title, not my fancy car or my parent's place in the Hamptons. Just __**you. **__I could have lost all those things on that day, and I still would have been happy. It still would have ranked as the best day of my life. I would spend my life with you living on the street or in my car; I don't care. As long as I have you, I'll be happy. You're my moon and stars, my sunrise and my sunset. Every second I spend with you is spent in pure happiness and love. The world may try and tear us apart, but it never will. We have real, rare true love. Our own version of 'Twilight'. You're my forever and I'm yours, no matter what. I'll never stop loving you; I'll love you as long as my heart is beating. Probably even after that. You're my Casey and I'm your Alex."_

By the time I'm finished reading that, I have to close the album. I'm so overcome with emotion that I can't look at or read any more. I'm sobbing so hard that my ribs hurt, but I can't stop.

Alex loves me so much. She loves me unconditionally. She has been here every second I've been at the hospital, and as hard as I'm sure it's been for her, she's respected my every wish. I can't imagine how worried she is and how much she wants to see me.

I've spent all this time thinking about how I'm not good enough for Alex, how I've broken her heart and wondered _why_ she could love me. I never took the time to think about the fact that Alex never felt good enough for me either, and that she depends on my life just as much as I depend on hers. I broke her heart when I left her. But she was still there to love me and comfort me when I came back, despite how much I'd hurt her. She never stopped loving me for even a second, and she was _never _angry with me.

When I tried to look at myself through Alex's eyes, all I saw was how dirty I was from what Jenna had done to me. I saw a broken-down, pathetic shell of who I used to be. But Alex never saw that. She always saw _me_, and always loved _me_.

Why couldn't I see this before? Why was I so blind to Alex's love? Why didn't I let her love me?

All this time I've spent alone in my depression, needing Alex's love and comfort. Needing her arms around me to sleep. Needing her baby blue eyes looking into mine and telling me everything will be okay. Needing her kisses to reassure me that I'm still worthy of her love. But most of all, needing _her. _If I would have let her helped me – perhaps gone to a therapist like she had wanted – maybe I wouldn't be here right now.

Suddenly a started voice says, "Casey! Is everything okay?"

Within seconds Nancy is back at my side as I shake my head. She grabs a box of tissues and hands them to me, standing at my side and watching me in concern. She gives me a good couple minutes of sobbing before she asks again, "What's wrong?"

I dap my red, sore eyes with another tissue and look at her. "Alex," is all I can say.

Nancy's eyes wander to the album on my lap and her eyes widen in realization. "What did Alex give you, Casey?"

I shake my head again. I don't want to show her the album and I don't want to look at any more pictures right now either. What I want is Alex; and I want her _now. _I want her to hold me; I want to feel comforted and loved in her arms. I want to tell her how sorry I am and how much I love her too, and promise that I'll never hurt her again. I want my wife.

When I'm able to speak, I tell Nancy, "Alex – I want Alex. Please. I want my wife."

* * *

**Alex's POV**

Stepping into Jenna's house feels like being led to my execution. I know what she is capable of and that she has no feelings or remorse for the things she says or does. I know she's dangerous. But yet here I am, standing inside her house.

This place looks too normal to be her dwelling. I don't know what I expected; maybe piles of bodies or someone to be handcuffed and gagged to her couch? I wouldn't have been surprised.

Jenna meets my eyes and I angrily glare at her, crossing my arms in front of my chest. My hatred for this woman is so strong that I don't know how I'm able to hold back from beating her. "Listen, I'm not here for a friendly chat. My skin is crawling just being inside your house."

She laughs. "I didn't figure you were. I figured you came to talk about Casey."

I don't like hearing Jenna say her name. She says it with no feeling or respect, like it's nothing. "Don't you say her name," I spit out.

Jenna shrugs, keeping completely calm. "Fine. Then you came to talk about _her."_

That's even worse and I have to bite my lip and take a deep breath to keep from losing my cool. I know I can't attack her; as much as I want to. I can't do that for Casey. I have to be here for her; not in jail on assault charges. It's bad enough I attacked Elaine at the hospital. I can't lose it again.

"I know what you did to her. Everyone who loves Casey knows what you did to her. You took her soul; you broke her. She's in the hospital right now. She nearly died. I almost lost my wife."

Jenna shrugs again and looks away from me, no hint of remorse at my words at all. I could get more sympathy and remorse by talking to a wall.

"I don't expect you to care. That's not why I'm here," I continue. "I'm here to tell you to stop spreading your lies and stop making yourself out to be the victim."

Now Jenna raises her eyes and looks at me. "But I_ am_ the victim, Alex. Your wife broke my heart. We were in love; we'd been together for months. She was talking about leaving you so we could be together." She works up tears as she says this, and I find myself impressed by her performance. She can lie with a straight face and just enough emotion to make it believable. She is so convincing that if I didn't know Casey, I would believe her. She's like a seasoned liar up on the witness stand. A psychopath with no human emotions besides the ones she fakes.

"You are a liar, Jenna. Casey would _never _cheat on me. You may be able to fool those who don't know Casey, but you haven't fooled me for one second," I tell her, not able to keep the anger out of my voice.

"But it's the truth. She got drunk at that party. She whispered in my ear that she wanted to have sex in the Senator's house – to be a 'bad' girl. So we went upstairs. And we did have sex, I've never denied that. But it was consensual; I did not rape her. And after we had sex, we talked about our relationship and I told her I didn't want to keep it a secret anymore. She was worried about ruining her perfect life with you – so she cried rape. And that's what happened, Alex."

She's an amazing actor. She deserves an Oscar for this. I can honestly understand why everyone believes her; I have never seen anyone tell such a convincing lie. She doesn't have any of the tells normally associated with someone who is lying. And that in itself tells me just how sick she is. It's almost like she _believes _what she is saying.

"You're a liar," I repeat, not at all fooled by her. "You _raped _Casey. And you will not get away with it. I'm going to see that you pay for what you did; somehow, someway. Mark my words, Jenna."

Jenna laughs and starts walking away from me into the living room. "Now you're threatening me? Smart, Alex. The District Attorney is threatening the woman her wife has been having an affair with, in her own home. You should really watch yourself. I haven't forgotten that you hit me in the Senator's office. I intend to do something about that. And the good Senator…let's just say he's about to get a wrongful discharge suit."

"He fired you because you're insane," I tell her as I stop in front of her couch. "And I hit you because you raped my wife. I'm not sorry about it, and I wish I could do it again. Do you know how much pleasure it would bring me to throw you against the wall and beat you right now? I've never been a violet person, but right now, that would put a big ass smile on my face."

Jenna is about to say something, when a noise from down the hall causes her to stop before she can get any words out. She looks in the direction of the noise, a horrified expression on her face; as if she's absolutely terrified that I heard the sound.

And I did – it sounded like a crash. Like someone trying to get my attention. I look at Jenna and hurry down the hall towards the sound, and Jenna follows me, trying desperately to stop me. What the hell is doing on? Is she keeping someone here?

"It's just my cat," she tells me quickly, and actually reaches out to take my arm. "He always ends up where he isn't supposed to be."

And as if on cue, an orange tabby cat meows and pushes his way out of a partially opened door on the left. He rubs my leg as he scampers by me, and I feel my heartbeat return to normal. Jenna has stopped a few inches from me and she's breathing heavily, a look of relief on her face.

If it were really just her cat, why does she look so relieved? Why did all the color drain from her face when the crash happened, and why did she try so desperately to stop me from following it?

I stare at her. "What's in that room?"

"Just some furniture. It's a spare bedroom," she says, much too quickly.

Somehow I don't believe her. Something is going on here. Either she has someone here, or there is something in the room she doesn't want me to see. And I'm not leaving until I find out what it is. If there is someone here, I can't leave them here with Jenna.

"Open the door – I want to see what's inside," I demand.

She scoffs, her calm and undaunted exterior returning. "I think you need a warrant for that, Alex. Don't you?"

I've lived half my life upholding the law and making sure others are punished when they don't. But right now I don't care about the law. The law isn't getting me justice for my wife. So I'm taking matters into my own hands.

I glare at Jenna and push the door open, stepping inside the room. And I gasp out loud when I see what's inside.

The walls are covered with photos of a woman I have never seen before, and of Casey. Photos of Casey at work, walking to her car, walking the dog, getting coffee; similar photos of the other woman. And on a far wall is a corkboard with newspaper clippings about Casey's accusations. The entire room is filled with clipping and photos, like a montage.

I turn and look at Jenna, my mouth dropping open in horror. I grab a picture of Casey and tear it down off the wall, my hand shaking as I hold it. "You were stalking Casey…you planned the whole thing. From the looks of these pictures, you have been stalking her for months. What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

I can't control myself now. I grab her and push her against the wall, causing a few of the candids to fall. "This is my _wife!_ You took pictures of my wife without her permission! You followed her!"

Jenna looks at the picture I have clenched tightly in my hand and smiles at me. "She's quite photogenic, don't you think?"

That pushes me over the edge. I want to punch her until she falls to the floor and then I want to kick her until she's unconscious, but I don't. I know I can't. I've got her now; these pictures are evidence enough to file charges and open an investigation. All I have to do is call Olivia.

I tear down a photo of the other girl – a brunette - and hold it out to Jenna. "Who is this?" She doesn't answer, so I scream the question again. "Who is this girl?" She still doesn't answer, so I throw the picture down angrily. "Another victim? Someone else you raped? Someone else you stalked? What's her name?" If there's another victim, I'll do everything in my power to find her.

I'm practically screaming in Jenna's face, and yet she's as calm and collected as can be. She actually bends down and picks up the photo. Then she says, "I think you should leave, Alex. You overstayed your welcome." A grin spreads across her face. "And did an illegal search."

"Oh, you better believe I am getting out of this house. I'm getting out of here and calling the police; you will not get away with this."

Jenna just shrugs as I turn to leave the room. She doesn't even follow me. It's like she isn't afraid at all. She has no fear.

I'm shaking as I try to fish my phone out of the pocket of my jeans. Once I have it in my hands, I nearly drop it. I know I need to call now.

But as I look at the screen, I see I have two missed calls. I must not have heard my phone ringing in all the chaos. My blood runs cold when I realize it's the hospital.

Suddenly I forget all about Jenna and what just happened. My breath catches in my throat as I call back and ask for Casey's floor. What if something happened to her?

Once the phone is answered, I waste no time getting to my point. "I'm Alex Cabot, my wife Casey is on your floor. I had two missed calls from you and I'm checking to see if everything is all right with her?"

There is a pause while the receptionist transfers me, and then someone picks up. "Mrs. Cabot, it's Nancy."

"Nancy? Is Casey okay?" I ask in a high-pitched voice. "Did something happen to her?"

"Casey is fine, Alex. I was trying to get a hold of you to let you know that Casey has been asking for you. She wants to see you."

**What did you think? Will Alex get someone there in time? Did the way she went about things ruin any chance they had to get Jenna? Keep in mind, Jenna is very, very good at lying. Do they finally have something to get her on? And what did you think of the album - how do you think it will go when Casey sees Alex again? Please review and let me know what you think!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Here's the update! Sorry for the sort of cliffie on the last one. Enjoy!**

**Casey's POV**

"Casey!"

I look up when I hear my name, and immediately see Alex standing with Nancy in the doorway. As soon as her eyes lock onto mine she smiles and I see her eyes welling up with tears. She is so happy I want to see her.

She hesitates in the doorway until I tearfully call her name and reach my hand out towards her. Then she immediately comes to me and as soon as she sits down on the bed, I lean up and throw my arms around her, squeezing her tightly and sobbing uncontrollably. My ribs hurt, but I don't care. I want Alex. I _need _Alex.

She squeezes me back just as tightly, and I can feel and hear her crying as well. She keeps whispering my name over and over and gently rocks me back and forth until I've stopped shaking and somewhat calmed down.

I can't describe how it feels to be held by her again. Her arms have always been a safe place, and as soon as she was holding me and I was holding her, I felt safe. I felt like her Casey and she felt like my Alex. She would never let the Jennas of the world hurt me again.

All I can feel radiating off Alex right now is pure and unconditional love and I scold myself for pushing her away for so long. This is what I needed all along; why did I deny myself this for so long? Deep down I know it's natural to feel and react the way I did but I'm ashamed of myself. Alex loves me so much.

We sit there holding each other for a long time; a crying, tangled mess. When we've both caught our breath and cried all our tears, Alex pulls away from me, holding my hand and smiling at me. Her eyes are red and puffy and her cheeks are sticky and wet with tears, but she looks beautiful. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen. She smoothes my hair back with her free hand and I close my eyes when she touches me again. It feels so good.

"I love you, Casey," she says softly, another tear sliding down her cheek.

I meet her gaze and start to cry again. I can't stand what I've done to her. "I love you too. I…" I try to hold myself together. "I am so sorry, Alex! So, so sorry!" Despite all my efforts not to, I burst into uncontrollable sobs again.

Alex holds me again, shaking her head. "It's okay, baby; it's going to be all right. You don't have to apologize to me." Her voice is quivering but she's managing to hold it together. She rubs circles on my back as she talks to me. "I'm the one who is sorry. I should have known how bad it was. I should have helped you, Casey. And I didn't." I hear her take a sharp deep breath to suppress the tears as she speaks again. "It was my job to take care of you and protect you and I let this happen." Now she's crying again, and my heart breaks. "I'm sorry, baby. I love you so much. Please forgive me, because I'll never forgive myself."

Alex Cabot – the most confident and strong woman in the world – is falling apart right in front of my eyes; and I caused it.

I can't stand that she feels like this is her fault. Has she felt this way all along? My heart clenches as I think about her blaming herself these past five days. How could I do that to her?

"It's not your fault," I manage to choke out. "Really, Alex. I should have told you how bad things were for me instead of keeping it inside."

We cling to each other again for several minutes until Alex pulls away again, and this time _I _comfort _her_. I brush her soft cheek with my fingers and tell her I love her again. She looks so concerned about me, and so frightened that I'm going to suddenly change my mind and scream at her to leave again. But that won't ever happen again.

She smiles again and runs her hand down my arm, studying me carefully. "How are you feeling? You have some broken ribs from when the paramedics gave you CPR. Any pain?"

She's in complete Alex the Wife mode, and it makes me smile. "Nothing unmanageable, I promise," I tell her so she won't worry. I notice her eyes go to my heart monitor but she doesn't say anything about it. There will be a time and place to discuss that, but now is not it.

It's strange; I should feel uncomfortable right now, since it's been so long since I have let Alex get so close to me, and given what happened the last time I saw her. But I'm not. I'm not afraid that she thinks I'm 'dirty' and I know without a doubt that she loves me.

"I'm sorry I pushed you away for so long," I tell her. "I just didn't know how to cope with how I was feeling."

"It's okay," she says again, resting her hand on the side of my face. "Casey, I understand. I've dealt with this for years at my job. You used to as well. I understand how hard it was for you. I don't blame you at all for what happened. The only person I blame is Jenna." She leans towards me and then stops and catches my eyes. "Can I – can I kiss you?"

It breaks my heart that my wife feels like she has to ask my permission to kiss me. It shouldn't be that way. I swallow harsh and tell her, "Of course."

She still hesitates, and then gently kisses my cheek. I wonder if she's afraid to really kiss me, if she thinks I'm going to panic again. But I smile and thank her anyway.

I know there is something else I have to say, so I gather all my courage and say it. "I know things aren't going to change overnight, Alex, but I want to get better. I want to come home. I want to go to therapy and try my hardest to get completely better. I'll even go on medication if they think it will help. I know it won't always be easy and there will be bad and hard days, but I promise, Alex, I won't give up again. As long as I have you, I will fight for myself."

Alex smiles again, and in her smile I see pride. She's proud of me. "I'm so happy to hear that. And I'll be with every step of the way. I won't ever leave you, or turn my back on you. I'll do whatever I have to do to help you get better. I'll go with you to therapy, I'll be there to listen and wipe your tears away, and I'll give you space when you need it. You're my life, Casey. All I want is for you to be healthy and happy."

I know every word is true. I can see the sincerity in her eyes and hear it in her voice, and I know I'm the luckiest woman in the world that I have someone who forgives so easily and loves so passionately.

"Alex, there's something else I want to say."

Alex looks a bit concerned, but says, "What is it, baby?"

"I don't want you to quit your job. I know how hard you worked and how much it means to you. When you said you were thinking of quitting it destroyed me. You can't. People depend on you. You're the best D.A. there is."

Alex takes a deep breath and then smiles again. "We'll talk about it later, okay?"

I nod, appreciating that this isn't the proper time to discuss it, but also glad I did say something.

I'm getting a vibe from Alex that there is something she needs to tell me, but doesn't want to. I can tell by her mannerisms. Maybe it's something she thinks I can't handle or something that can wait; but I know there's something. I can read Alex like a book, and I know there is something going on that I don't know about.

"Alex? What's wrong?" She gives me a puzzled look. "I can tell something is wrong." She looks away from me, and catch her arm. "I can handle it; please tell me." When she doesn't answer, I suddenly have a terrible thought. "Oh, no…you didn't resign already, did you?"

"No," she answers quickly. "No, Casey. I promise I didn't. I have a temporary replacement. I wouldn't make that final decision without you. But like I said, we'll discuss it later."

"Then what is it?"

"Nothing that can't wait. Okay? You need to focus on you right now. I spoke to Dr. Taylor before I came in. She wants to talk with you when we're finished; alone. You have to have another EKG and some blood work. But she said she should be able to release you to come home by tomorrow if she determines that's best. But she has to talk to you again first. She gave me the contact information of the therapist she is referring you to; I'll do some checking on her, make sure she's the best. Okay? I want nothing but the best for you."

I know Alex is holding back because she doesn't want to upset or overwhelm me, and I respect that. But I wish she wouldn't be afraid to tell me things and wouldn't treat me like a China doll. Though I can't blame her, considering what has happened.

I decide not to push the issue anymore. I know Alex will most likely tell me when I get home. I wish I was going there now. I don't want to stay in this hospital another night. I don't want to be poked with more needles and be subjected to the awful hospital food. I want to go home with my wife and sleep in my own bed and have Blaze lie on my lap and try to get back to normal.

I pat the bed next to me and slide over. "Sit up here with me," I request, and Alex gets up from her spot on the edge of the bed and sits right next to me. She puts her arm around me, and I rest my head on her shoulder. She immediately starts to play with my hair.

I'm suddenly frightened. Thoughts of home are coming to me. While I'm looking forward to being there with Alex and my pets, I'm also nervous. Before when I thought I could handle sleeping with her it ended with me retreating to the basement and I didn't come out for several days. What if that happens again? What if while I'm in bed with Alex I think about Jenna or remember something I didn't before? What if I have a nightmare about what happened? What if I _hurt _Alex? What if it's dangerous for me to be around her and I'm not ready to go home yet?

I decide to tell Alex how I feel. "I'm scared," I confess.

I expect her to ask me what I'm afraid of, but she doesn't. She seems to understand perfectly. "I know, baby. But it's going to be okay. You have me. Remember that. You aren't walking this road alone. We'll get to the end of it safely. I promise you that."

"But what if I – " I'm not sure how to put into words how I'm feeling right now, so I just say it. "What if I somehow inadvertently hurt you?"

"You won't. I know how scary this must be. But that's what you are going to therapy for – it will help you learn how to deal with it, and your therapist will give you medication for sleep and also to make you feel better overall. It isn't going to happen all at once, and you know that. Take it a little at a time. I won't crowd you or make you uncomfortable. We won't do anything until you are ready. If you want to sleep in the basement, you can."

"No," I tell her quickly. "No. I want to sleep with my _wife_."

She kisses my cheek and then squeezes me. "That's so good to hear, sweetheart. But if you get scared or it makes you uncomfortable, we'll figure something else out, okay? You don't have to be afraid to tell me if something is bothering you or too difficult for you. Ever."

I know she means it. I know I can be completely honest with my Alex and she's still going to love me. If I can't handle sleeping with her right now, I can tell her that and she'll still love me. I'll be disappointed in myself, but Alex won't be.

Suddenly, Nancy appears in the doorway. As soon as she sees us on the bed, she smiles. I'm sure we look cute on my bed together.

"I'm sorry to have to interrupt you ladies, but Alex, Olivia Benson is here to see you and she says it's urgent. And Dr. Taylor would also like to see Casey."

Alex nods and I sit up so she can get off the bed. Before she makes any attempt to move, she takes my hand and looks right into my eyes, into my very soul. "You going to be okay? As soon as Dr. Taylor is done, I'll come right back, okay?"

"Okay. I'll be fine. I promise."

She smiles again and squeezes my hand before she releases it. "All right. You tell her what you told me – how you're scared. Be honest with her, Casey. She'll know how to help, okay? And when I come back, do you mind if I bring your dad? He wants to see you too."

My dad? A lump forms in my throat. I don't want to face my dad right now, but I know I have to. He loves me too, and I owe it to him to know that I'm okay. Or at least headed in that direction.

So I nod and force a smile as Alex gets up off the bed. She lingers a moment or so longer, not wanting to leave me. She's probably frightened that I won't want to see her again if she leaves. That couldn't be further from the truth.

Finally, I say, "Go, Alex. Liv needs to see you. I'll be all right."

Only after I assure her I'll be okay does Alex actually leave the room, and even then I think it was difficult for her. She looked like she was going to cry. I have to stop making my wife cry.

As soon as she's gone, I miss her. I already ache for her arms around me again. I'm exposed and vulnerable right now and I don't feel safe without Alex here. It's incredible how much you can depend on just a person's presence alone.

What did Olivia need to speak to her about so urgently? She's off work now so it can't be work related. I can't shake the feeling in the pit of my stomach that something is wrong.

A moment later Dr. Taylor steps into the room and closes the door behind her. I don't really want to see her, but I know this is necessary. What I say is going to impact whether or not I get out of here by tomorrow, so I know I have to tread very lightly while still being honest like Alex said.

So I push the worry about what's going on with Alex out of my head and prepare to do whatever I have to go home with her.

**So you have to wait until next chapter to see what happened with Jenna. Sorry. But it didn't seem appropriate to have Alex tell Casey about it at that time. I promise you WILL find out in the next one.**

**What do you think? Is Casey on her way to recovery? Will she get to go home right away? How do you think that will go? Please leave me a review and let me know what you think!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Thanks to all the readers for the follows and reviews! I appreciate it! Here's your update.**

**Alex's POV**

It's hard for me to hide my annoyance as I approach Olivia on the waiting room. I know full well what this is about, but I hadn't wanted to leave Casey. I still wanted to be in bed holding her and assuring her that everything is okay.

Olivia is wearing an apologetic expression and says, "I'm sorry, Alex. I know you were with Casey."

"Did you guys taken Jenna in?" I ask immediately, not wanting to waste any time with small talk right now. I want to get back to Casey as soon as possible.

Olivia sighs, and I can read her uneasy expression and I have my answer before she even speaks. Something went wrong; they _don't _have her.

"She wouldn't consent to a search without a warrant," she tells me.

I feel my heart drop. "That tells you she has something to hide. She wants to delay you and take all the photos down in the time it takes you to get a warrant. She's a psycho, Liv!" I feel myself start to panic and I run my hand through my hair. "I know I'm not supposed to have anything to do with this, but the hell with the conflict of interest." With a shaking hand, I pull my phone out of my pocket and scroll through my contacts. "I'll have you warrant in five minutes." Jenna isn't going to get away this time.

"Alex," Olivia stops me by placing her hand on my arm. "Nick and Amanda are getting a warrant from Barba. I just wanted to let you know what has been going on." She hesitates a moment to gauge my reaction. "You said you have a photo of the other girl?"

I nod as I take a deep breath to calm myself. They're getting a warrant…they have lights and sirens. They can get back to Jenna's before she has time to hide evidence. There were so many photos and articles; it would be impossible for her to get rid of them all in such a short amount of time. Even if she tried, a search of the apartment would reveal them. I keep telling myself this.

I take the photo of the brunette girl out of my back pocket. The edges are bent and the photo is wrinkled, but it's of good quality. The girl is facing the camera, holding her cell phone to her ear with one hand and holding a coffee in the other. Looks to have been taken on the street.

Olivia frowns as she looks at it. "Do you recognize her?" I shake my head. "Did you ask Casey if she knew her?"

"No; I didn't want to bring up what happened right now. This is the first time I have seen her since…" I trail off, and Olivia nods, showing she understands. "She needs time to recover. I couldn't bring that monster up. Or tell her that there's possibly another girl out there that Jenna has stalked and possibly raped."

"I understand, but she does need to know. We may have to ask her if she can identify the girl in the photo. Maybe it's someone she worked with at Senator Palmer's office? Or someone she knows from elsewhere." Olivia looks at the picture again. "I need to take this with me, is that okay? We'll make sure Casey gets to see it, but I have to take it for now."

I nod; I trust Olivia with it. I know she'll follow the proper procedure. Maybe we can get the girl identified quickly and talk to her. If Jenna has raped her, maybe I can convince her to come forward and file charges. It would go a long way to prove that Casey is telling the truth and maybe even be enough to convict Jenna, depending on the evidence.

Jenna has destroyed Casey's life and now I have to put it back together. I _will not_ let her get away with this. I owe it to Casey to fix this. To make Jenna pay. And I intend to; by whatever means necessary.

"She can't get away with this, Liv," I tell her. "She has _photos _of my wife and articles about what happened all over the walls in one of her bedrooms! Photos of Casey outside of the coffee shop she used to go to when she worked at the Senator's office. Photos of _us _together! Jenna either followed her around herself or had someone else do it. But Liv, she planned this. It was pre-meditated. She was just waiting for the right time to strike and she found it."

Olivia smiles lightly at me. "I know how difficult this is, and you know we're going to do everything we can to help. But you can't speak to Jenna again; or go back to her house. You know you can have nothing to do with this investigation. You already shouldn't have gone in the first place, and – "

"I don't care, Olivia!" I yell. "Look what she's done to Casey! Look where Casey is!" I gesture around the waiting room as I realize I'm raising my voice and people are watching us. I take a deep breath and hold it, calming myself down. I don't need to lose it right now. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to yell." Olivia nods. "I had to go see her. I had to let her know she won't get away with this."

"I know _why _you did it," Olivia says. "Just tread very lightly from now on?"

I can't understand why everyone thinks it's necessary to tell me these things; I'm the District Attorney – do they really think I don't know what to do or how to conduct myself? I'm fully aware that some of the things I have done are borderline illegal and that I had no right to slap Elaine or enter that bedroom in Jenna's house. But I also know I carry a lot of influence in this city and in our justice system. I'm not really worried in the least.

Olivia and I talk for a while longer and I thank her profusely for responding and helping in handling the case. She promises to let me know as soon as Jenna's house is searched, and when she leaves I go back to Casey's room. She's still talking to and the door is closed, so I sit down on the floor outside of her door and prepare to wait.

I'm lost in my thoughts when a voice makes me jump. "I can bring you a chair if you'd like."

I raise my head and find myself looking at a young nurse who is standing in front of me with a chart in her arms. I give her a smile. "Thanks, but I'm fine. My wife is talking to your psychiatrist; I don't think they'll be much longer."

She nods and hurries off down the hall, and I let my head fall back against the wall, sighing loudly. I'm nervous; about everything. About how things are going to turn out with Jenna, about how Casey is going to cope with coming home and going to therapy, how I'm possibly ever going to go back to work while all this is happening. It's really too much to take in. For the first time, I'm realizing the effect this has all had on _me. _I haven't been eating or taking care of myself, I'm nervous and scared constantly about how every little thing is going to affect Casey and I literally have no idea what is going on at the office while I'm not there. But I'm not a selfish person and I know this isn't about me, so I push all thoughts of myself out of my head and replace them with thoughts of Casey and what I can do to help her get better.

I think the photo album was a good start. She obviously looked at it; I saw it on the bed with her. Maybe it's what gave her the breakthrough she needed; maybe she saw the right photo and finally realized she is not alone. I hope so, anyway. And I as think about it, another idea enters my mind and I smile. I know another way I may be able to reach her.

Suddenly the door opens and Dr. Taylor steps out of the room. I stand immediately, and as soon as she sees me, a professional expression crosses her face and she gives me a smile. Without waiting for me to ask, she said, "I'm pleased by the progress she's making so far and seems very sincere in her desire to get better."

I let out the breath I hadn't even realized I was holding and I can't hold back my smile. "That's wonderful news! I am so happy to hear that!" A tear slides down my cheek but I don't even try and stop it. Happy tears are healthy.

"She told me about the photo album and how it helped her realize what she was missing, why she couldn't feel better. She said when you held her again, she felt like everything was going to be all right. And these are all good things, Alex, but I don't want you to get your hopes up too high."

My face falls a little. Way to be a buzz killer.

"Everything isn't going to change just like that; It's going to take time for Casey to recover. And while she's on the right path, she's only just started on that path. Going home is going to be very stressful for her. I know it doesn't seem that way, but it's going to bring back memories of what she did and she's going to feel remorse for her actions. It's important for you to be supportive of Casey, but also important that you give her reasonable space. Holding onto someone too tightly can be harmful; especially someone in Casey's condition. Therapy is going to be an adjustment for her as well. I want her to go twice a week to start with; after a month the doctor will review her progress. Casey has all the information on the referral and an appointment has already been made for her. She may be angry or resentful that she has to go to therapy. There's a stigma attached to it. I suggest you take Casey to her appointments; it will help put her mind at ease about it, and maybe she'll even want you to sit-in on the sessions until she is comfortable. She's going to have days that are easy and days that are hard. She'll get upset and she'll cry sometimes, but you can't get frustrated with her. She needs a support system to get through this."

I am more than happy to oblige with all that. Casey has me for life; I'm not going anywhere. "I can do all that. I promise I will be there for Casey, but I won't push her," I tell her. "When can I take her home?"

"I'd like her to stay another day. Naturally, Casey isn't happy about this. But she's going to start her anti-depressant today and we'd like to monitor her for any side-effects during the first twenty-four hours. I also understand that her cardiologist has ordered some more tests. Assuming everything remains the way it is now, Casey has no side-effects and continues to cooperate, you can take her home by tomorrow evening."

I had hoped to take my wife home tonight, but I do understand and I want what's best for her. If that means staying here another night, then she has to. And I'll stay right by her side. "Can I stay with her tonight?"

"I think that would be fine, as long as Casey is comfortable with it. I'll make the arrangements."

She gives me some basic information on the therapist that Casey is going to start seeing, then heads off to see another patient after telling me that she cut her session with Casey short because Casey was getting a headache. I'm immediately on alert because I know what her headaches usually lead to, and it's the last thing she needs right now.

I open the door and go back into her room. She's sitting up in bed and looks at me when I enter. "Alex! I'm so glad you're still here!"

I go to her and immediately take her hand as I sit down on the edge of the bed and study her. And I can tell right away that she doesn't feel well, that her headache is bad. The stress of the last few days and the realization of everything that has happened is bringing on a migraine.

I reach out and stroke her forehead gently, offering her a small smile. "You have a headache, baby?" She just nods. "A bad one?"

She nods again, and I get up from the bed and instruct her to move over so I can get into bed with her again. She does as I ask, wincing at the pain it's causing her and making my heart break. I gently get into bed beside her and guide her down beside me. I expect her to just lay down, but instead she tucks herself into me, nuzzling into my shoulder. I smile as I allow myself to relax and begin to stroke her hair, talking softly to her. I love her so much. More than I thought was possible to love another person.

She's my Casey. And I'll always protect her.

After just a few minutes, Casey falls asleep. The past few days have caught up with her and attacked with a headache and now exhaustion has her in its grips. I'm just thankful to be here. Thankful she's allowing me to be so close to her. Thankful I still have her.

I never once stop stroking her hair. It always calms and soothes her, and I've had her wake up when I've stopped before. I think it helps her know that I'm still here. A tear makes its way down my cheek as I lower my head and gently kiss Casey on the neck, being careful not to wake her. I could say that I love her a million times in a million different ways and it still wouldn't adequately describe how I feel about her.

I wonder what it would have been like if I had lost her. I can't even imagine that kind of sorrow. Losing the love of your life, the person who mattered the most to you in the world. The person who completed you and made you who you are. Your reason for living and breathing. I don't think I could have gone on without Casey. I think the sadness would have consumed me and I never would have recovered. My life would have ended when hers did.

Not long after Casey falls asleep, a nurse comes into the room. She looks at us strangely and I hold my finger to my lips and point at Casey. I don't want her to be awakened right now. She needs her rest.

But the nurse approaches the bed anyway. She looks at Casey's heart monitor and reaches out to check her IV when I stop her with a stern whisper. "Can this wait? She needs to sleep."

"I'm afraid not," she says back rather coldly, not even respecting my wish to remain quiet as she speaks in a normal tone. "Her cardiologist has ordered some tests and I need to prep her."

I look down at Casey. She's still asleep, to my relief. Her breathing is even and she hasn't moved. I resume the soft stroking of her hair. "Those can wait. She's had a rough couple of days, and she needs her rest."

The nurse sighs. "Ma'am, it's been a busy day and we're already behind on our cardiology tests. I don't have time to argue with you. I need to get her prepped and ready." She takes one final look at us lying together. "And I'm afraid you can't be in her bed with her like that. It's against policy."

I'm instantly pissed. Just like that. Casey is my _wife – _how dare this woman say I can't be in bed with her, especially after all she has been through? Doesn't she care?

It's then that Casey wakes up. She stirs a bit and then rolls off me. I see her open her eyes, and she groans heavily and quickly closes them again. My heart clenches; I know she has the start of one of her migraines. The light is hurting her eyes.

She tries to sit up, but I make her lay back down and put my eyes directly on the nurse. She's about to know what it's like to cross Alex Cabot. "She has a migraine. I'd like you to get her some pain medication, then turn off the lights and leave us alone."

The nurse stares me down. I keep the hard expression on my face, not willing to negotiate. Any tests they have to do can wait until tomorrow; Casey isn't in any condition for it right now. She needs medication and rest.

"I'm sorry, but I was told to come and prep her. You're going to have to get out of the bed so I can do my job."

Casey moans in pain and pulls the sheet over her face. I stroke her hair again and tell her it's okay, then put my eyes back on the defiant nurse. "I'm not moving from this bed, and Casey is _not _going for any tests right now. Now I'd like you to walk out of here and directly to your supervisor, and I'd like to see him or her in this room within five minutes. In the meantime, I'm staying right here with my _wife._"

I can tell she doesn't want to, but the nurse relents. She slams her chart down on the nearby table and says, "Fine," before turning and quickly disappearing out the door.

I take the stern frown off my face and return my attention to Casey. She has the sheet off her face now, and open her eyes just enough to look at me. I can tell she's in pain. "Please don't leave me, Alex."

My heart clenches and I give her a kiss before she lies her head down on my chest and I start rubbing her back again. My eyes are watery as I say softly, "I'm not going anywhere, baby. Ever."

Not even five minutes, Nancy comes into the room. I'm relieved to see her; I know she'll understand and she'll give Casey exactly what I ask for.

She smiles at us both and comes to stand next to the bed. "I understand there's a problem? How can I help?"

I explain about Casey's migraine and my wishes for her tests to be done tomorrow. I make it clear that I'm not moving from her bed and Casey won't be taken anywhere. I'm fully aware that bitch mode has been activated, but I don't care.

Nancy nods in understanding. "Her tests can wait until tomorrow, but she does need to start her anti-depressant today. We'll give her a few hours to sleep before someone will come in and give it to her. I'll get her on some pain medication in the IV for the migraine pain. It will help the pain in her ribs as well. I'll get that right away and then let you two rest. Let us know if you need anything."

A few minutes later the IV is started and we're left alone, as promised. Nancy turns out the lights and gives instructions for no one to disturb Casey unless we press the call button or until it's time for Casey to get her medication.

I lie there with my wife, feeling in charge for the first time in a long time. I know she'll soon feel relief from the medication in her IV, but until then I'm going to hold her and soothe her pain as best I can.

"Alex," Casey suddenly says, and I feel her seek my hand out and intertwine it with hers. "Thank you for the album. I love you, so much. I want to be home with you."

I give her a squeeze. "You will be, baby. And we'll get through this together. But for now, get some sleep. When you wake up you can have something to eat with your medication and your dad can see you. Okay?"

Casey doesn't respond, but I know she hears me. From her position lying on me, I can feel her breathing. When it gets more even and relaxed and her grip on my hand loosens, I know she's fallen asleep and I smile to myself. Even in spite of everything, I can still soothe my wife to sleep.

My eyes suddenly feel heavy and I realize I need sleep just as much as Casey does. I kiss her once more, then lie my own head down on the pillow, placing my hand on Casey's back and never losing contact with her hand. I close my eyes, and within minutes I've joined Casey in the land of sleep.

* * *

We're both awakened several hours later by a gentle voice calling our names. I think Casey and I awaken at the same time; we both jerk upright, squinting in the sudden bright overhead light and trying to shake the confusion from our sleepy minds.

It's Nancy standing next to the bed. She's smiling at us again and checking Casey's IV. "How you feeling, Casey? Any nausea? Did you rest well?"

Casey is still squinting and swallows harshly. "I still have a headache, but it isn't migraine level. No nausea. I'm okay." Then she looks at me. "And I slept the best I have in a long time."

So did I. I reach out and ruffle Casey's messy hair, causing her to smile dopily. She still looks so adorably sleepy, just like she does every morning at home. I love her so much.

Nancy jots down some information and then hands Casey a menu. "I'm afraid I do have to make you eat this time, Casey. You can take your medication on an empty stomach. Pick whatever you'd like. Or I can suspend the rules just the once and allow Alex to get you something and bring it in, if you'd like."

Casey is examining the menu carefully as I look at her. "Want me to, Casey? I could get you a sandwich from Subway. You love them." She doesn't say anything, so I add, "I'll get one too and we can eat together."

That seems to seal the deal. She hands the menu back to Nancy and says, "Okay. My usual from Subway. And an M&M cookie?"

I get up off the bed and give her a kiss. "Of course a cookie. Would I deny you that?"

The smile quickly disappears from Casey's face as Nancy gives her some information on the anti-depressant she is going to be taking and the possible side effects. I know Casey doesn't really want to take it; she's never been a fan of that type of medication.

"Do I really _have_ to take it?" Casey asks, looking directly at me and completely ignoring Nancy. "I know I'm supposed to, but Alex, they alter your mind. I won't be 'me'."

She hasn't been _her _for a long time, but I don't say that. It's not the right thing to say. She needs reassurance. I have my fears about her being on the medication as well; fears of how it will make her feel, fears that she'll have bad side effects. I know that sometimes it's a struggle to find the right dosage and the right medication; many times patients have to be try several different kinds before they find one that works for them. But I also know this is the best thing for her and we have to face our fears together.

I sit back down on the bed and take Casey's hand again. "Casey, I know you're scared about taking the meds. Anyone would be; it's a scary thing. But once they get a chance to work, they will make you feel better. Once the proper dosage is found, you'll be glad you are taking them. They'll help with the sadness and nightmares." I run my thumb over the back of her hand. "I promise you'll still be my Casey."

Casey swallows and her eyes are full of uncertainty as she looks at me again. "But what if I get Sid effects from them? What if they don't work?"

Casey is getting ahead of herself. I smile at her again, reaching out and tucking her red hair behind her ear. "Most side effects go away after a couple days. And if these meds don't work, your therapist will find ones that will. You just have to give it time, Casey. I'll be by your side through all this. You're not alone at all, okay?" I watch as she slowly nods her head. "Now please take them. For yourself, and for me."

She raises her eyes and meets mine. "I'll take them."

I'm pleased to hear her say that. I get up off the bed again, not letting go of her hand. I turn my attention to Nancy. "I'll make a quick run to Subway. Will you have her meds ready when I get back?" she nods at me and reassures me that we're making the right choice.

Casey finally lets go of my hand and picks the album up off the table next to her. It warms my heart to see a smile on her face as she opens it.

"Can I send her father in on my way out?" I ask quietly. "I know he really wants to see her."

"That should be fine. I want to wait until she eats to have her take the pills."

I turn to leave the room, grabbing my purse off the counter by the sink. I look one more time at Casey and say, "I'll be right back. I love you."

She looks up at me and says the sweetest words ever, "I love you too."

That's all the motivation I need to get going. Casey is so sincere in all this. I have every confidence that we can get through this rough patch and that Casey can get better. As long as she has this attitude and wants to help herself, we can do it.

As soon as I get to my car, I take my phone out of my purse to check it. I want to call Olivia and see if there is any news on Jenna. Casey and I were asleep for over four hours. That is enough time for her house to be searched. I'm surprised Olivia wasn't waiting in the waiting room for me.

I discover I have five missed calls and frown when I see they are all from Olivia, the first call placed almost two hours ago. The voice mail icon is blinking at me, so I enter in my code and listen to the message.

"_Hey Alex, it's Olivia. I know you're with Casey. I didn't want to interrupt you again, but I have an update for you." _There's a slight pause, and then, _"Alex, nothing was found in Jenna's house. Every room was searched. There were no pictures or articles. The unit that searched the house said there wasn't any evidence that anything had been on the walls; no tack marks or traces of tape. I'm really sorry, Alex. She was brought in for questioning and then released. There's just nothing on her." _Another pause and then, _"You're wanted at the precinct to give a statement as well, sometime today."_

I hit 'delete' before the message is even finished and throw the phone into the passenger seat. I slam my hands on my steering wheel and start to cry angry, frustrated tears. How is it that she's able to do this? How is it she is able to fool _everyone_? I know what I saw! How could Jenna have hid so many pictures and articles and not left a trace of them. _How?_

**Oh...brutal on them not finding anything at Jenna's. How do you think she was able to pull that off? And what they say to Alex when she gives her statement? Do you think they will believe her...or not? And what will happen when she tells Casey all this? In the next chapter, Alex faces questioning and Casey comes home. Please leave me a review and let me know what you think!  
**


	26. Chapter 26

**First of all, let me say thanks to my loyal readers for sticking with this story, and I am sorry the updates have been lacking. Life has been hectic for me. But I'm back at the writing now, and I promise regular weekly updates :) So stick with it and enjoy the update!**

Casey's cardiology tests reveal she has a heart murmur. I don't like it, but I'm also thankful; I know given the amount of medication that she took, it could be much, much worse. The murmur can be controlled with medication, and she'll have to have regular cardiology tests to ensure it doesn't get any worse. I guess looking at the big picture, we got off easy.

I'm sitting in the chair in Casey's hospital room waiting for the nurse to bring her discharge papers. Casey is in the bathroom, and I slowly look around her small little room. I'm so glad to be bringing her home. She doesn't belong in the hospital. She belongs at home, with me.

As excited as I am, I'm also very nervous. I know it's going to be an adjustment for Casey and she's going to have some anxiety about being at home, especially after the overdose happened in our own home. Dr. Taylor told me not to dwell on what happened; to let Casey talk about it on her terms. I'm supposed to make everything at home as normal and comfortable for Casey as I can. That means respecting her wishes if she doesn't want to sleep with or be close to me for a little while.

Casey has an appointment with the therapist Dr. Taylor referred us to on Tuesday. When I asked Casey if she wanted me to go with her she informed me she would like me to go, but that she wants me to wait in the waiting room for her. I'm happy to oblige. I'm just grateful she wants me around.

We've seen little side-effects from the anti-depressant Dr. Taylor is trying on Casey. It's a mild low-dose medication, meant to keep her relatively calm and help with anxiety. Dr. Taylor already told me not to be alarmed if her therapist changes the medication or ups the dosage; it's all part of finding the right balance that will help Casey. I'm on board with whatever is going to help her get past this.

I do have some bad news, though; when I went to the precinct yesterday to give my statement about what happened with Jenna, I was informed that when the police went back to her house to question her, she was gone. No sign of her or her vehicle. The put a unit on her house all night, but she never returned. It's too early to say she took off, but that's where my mind has gone. She knew she was close to being caught, and she fled.

Of course since no evidence was found at her residence and no official charges had been filed against Jenna for Casey's rape, there's nothing that can be done. They can't put out an APB on her without cause. I'm very concerned for Casey's safety – Jenna was obviously obsessed with her. What if she tries to attack her again? But despite my concerns – and despite the fact that I'm the District Attorney – I was basically told to "keep an eye on her".

I have no intentions of letting this go. When thing settle down with Casey, I'm going to hire a private investigator to find Jenna and dig up her past. There has to be something there. The photo of that other girl….it has to mean something. When Olivia ran it through their database, it came up with no hints. No missing persons or victims reports matching the photo. The girl is a phantom in every sense of the word. But I intend to get to the bottom of it.

I'm neglecting telling Casey about any of this. I'm going to wait until she starts therapy and her medication gets a chance to really work, until she's stable enough to handle a conversation about Jenna. She doesn't need this on her mind right now. And neither do I. My focus is on my wife, and that's where it's going to remain.

As soon as Casey emerges from the bathroom, I smile at her. She's cleaned herself up and gotten dressed, and she has a little color back in her face. "Hey, sweetheart. Still waiting on the nurse."

Casey returns the smile and comes over and sits down on the bed. Her movements are still a big sluggish, but she's with it for the most part. She wrings her hands in her lap and swallows uneasily; she's trying really hard, but I know she's not as comfortable around me as she used to be. Not yet anyway. I want to reach out and touch her leg, but I know it has to be Casey who initiates contact between us.

Slowly, she looks up at me. "They like to take their time. We'll probably be waiting all day."

I laugh. "I'll make sure they hurry up!"

Casey laughs lightly too. It's so nice to hear that laugh again, even if it's just for a moment. Then to my extreme surprise, Casey reaches out and puts her hand over mine. She locks her eyes on me and says, "Thank you so much for being here. I really am sorry about everything. I love you, Alex."

I feel my heart literally melting as I gaze into those warm, mesmerizing green eyes that I love so much. I have to bite my lip to keep from crying. "You're welcome, sweetheart. I love you too – so much. We're getting through this together, okay? You and me."

Casey's looking down at the charm bracelet she gave me on her honeymoon. She smiles and runs her thumb over the house charm. "You still wear this." It's not a question; more of an observation.

I look down at it as well. I haven't gone a day without wearing it since the honeymoon. I only take it off for showering and sleeping. "Of course. Besides my wedding ring, it's my most prized possession. I love it."

This time when Casey meets my eyes, hers are watery and I feel my heart break. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, baby." Her voice breaks, and I know she's on the verge of a breakdown.

It's very difficult for me to hold it together right now. I want to take Casey in my arms and never let her go. I want to cry with her until neither of us have any tears left. It's almost impossible not to. But I manage to hold it together somehow. I take a deep breath and squeeze Casey's hand. "I know, sweetheart. I know. It's okay – things are going to get better now. Let's just get you home and enjoy being together, okay?"

Just as Casey nods, Nancy walks into the room. She smiles when she sees us holding hands. "So glad to see you up and ready to go home, Casey."

I let go of Casey long enough to stand and shake Nancy's hand, giving her a grateful smile. I appreciate her kindness to us, and everything she's done to help Casey. "Thank you, Nancy. I wanted to thank you for taking care of my wife. Thank you for being so accepting towards us and for bending the rules for us. It means more than you know."

She returns the smile. "It's my pleasure. It's so nice to see two people so in love. I'm happy to see Casey doing so well. I know that as long as she has you, she'll be just fine."

All this attention makes Casey uneasy, so she looks away and blushes slightly. I can't hide my smile; she's always done that, and it's adorable. She doesn't like being the center of attention. It embarrasses her. Seeing Casey embarrassed is possibly the cutest sight on earth.

I look back at Nancy and whisper, "I'll take good care of her. I promise."

For the next ten minutes or so, Nancy goes over Casey's discharges instructions with us. She's to see her therapist as regularly scheduled and to come to the emergency room immediately if she has any more suicidal thoughts or any anxiety or panic attacks. We're given a print-out on how to recognize the signs of any anxiety or panic attack and what to do until help arrives. I plan to put this on the fridge so we can both become familiar with it.

We're given three prescriptions – one for Casey's anxiety and anti-depressant medication, her heart medication, and one to manage the pain of her broken ribs. I see the look on Nancy's face when she explains what the medication is for, and I know she's thinking the same thing I am.

I take the prescriptions from Nancy and promise to fill them right away on our way home. I have something I want to say and I know it may upset Casey, but it has to be said. "I think it might be a good idea if I control your medication just for a little while. You know, hand out your pills every day and keep the bottles in a place only I know about. That way you won't be tempted to – to – " I can't even finish the thought.

Casey looks at me and nods, "That's a good idea."

I'm so relieved she's not fighting me on this, but I can see the sadness in her eyes as she realizes I don't trust her right now. And it hurts – badly.

That seems to suffice Nancy, as she knows I will make sure Casey gets her medication yet doesn't hurt herself. She's seen how dedicated I am to my wife; there's no doubt in her mind that I'll take care of her.

A few minutes later, Nancy wraps it up. "I guess that's all. I'll let you ladies be getting home. I'm glad you're better, Casey, and you stay well, okay? Come back to us if you need anything."

This time Casey shakes Nancy's hand and smiles. "Thank you – for everything."

And finally, it's time to take my beautiful wife home. I'm filled with so many emotions right now, and they are all fighting for dominance. Happiness and anxiety seem to be in a power struggle, as I don't know whether I should be happy about Casey coming home or nervous that I'm going to do something wrong and she's going to end up back here.

* * *

After a rather long wait at the pharmacy, we're finally home. Armed with Casey's medication and some snacks for later.

Casey looks uneasy as I park my car in the garage. She's playing with her seatbelt, and I see her swallowing nervously. She's anxious about being home. I know it's to be expected, but my heart still drops. This is Casey's home. She's supposed to feel comfortable here.

But I know I can't dwell on it, so I plaster on a smile and act as happy and cheerful as I possibly can. I quickly get out of the car and come around to the passenger side to open the door for Casey. She smiles at me as I extend my hand and help her stand. I notice her wince slightly at the pain the movement causes her broken ribs, but it seems to pass quickly.

"We're home," I announce, as if she couldn't already tell. She doesn't say anything; just follows close behind me like a guest as I unlock the door and lead the way inside.

I can't imagine how difficult this must be for Casey to come back here after what happened. She tried to kill herself, and is now thrown back into her life routine and I'm supposed to act as if nothing has happened. I'm supposed to act as if we got up this morning as usual and ate breakfast together and had a normal day.

As we enter the kitchen, I toss my keys on the counter and turn on the lights. Almost immediately, Blaze comes rushing up to us. I smile, grateful that Olivia and Renee remembered to bring him home this morning. I wanted him to be here to greet Casey.

Blaze acts as if I'm invisible and runs up to Casey. He doesn't usually jump on people, but he jumps on Casey with his front paws, his entire back end wriggling as he wags his tail in happiness. His mouth is open and he actually looks like he's smiling as Casey carefully crouches down and pets him. The sight of Casey and her dog is so heartwarming. I just stand there watching their happy reunion. Casey is wearing a legitimate smile and I tell her, "I think he missed you. You're his favorite."

After their reunion, Casey gets up and goes directly to the cabinet to retrieve his food. I watch as he obediently sits while Casey pours food in his dish. "Poor baby – Alex probably didn't have time to feed you today, did she?" She pets his head as he starts in on his chow.

I'm just standing back watching Casey. My heart is swelling with pride as she puts the food away and fills a glass with water to put in his bowl. It's such a normal, routine thing that Casey used to do every day. But seeing her do it now – the way she just jumped in – I can't help but wear a pride smile on my face.

Casey turns around and notices the look on my face. "What?" she asks.

"Nothing. I'm just proud of you."

Casey looks at Blaze and then at me again. "For what? Because I'm able to pour dog food in a bowl and pour water without spilling it?"

My heart drops. God, I've already done the wrong thing and she hasn't even been home for ten minutes. I quickly shake my head. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant – "

Casey shakes her head. "It's okay. I get it." Then she walks out of the kitchen, signifying that this dead-end conversation is over.

I don't want to follow too closely behind her, but I want to be close enough that I can keep an eye on her. It's not the time to hover, and I know that. But I also know I'm not about to let Casey go off by herself.

I slowly follow her as she walks through the living room and goes out the slider doors to our deck. She watches as I come out a few minutes after her, but thankfully doesn't tell me to leave.

It's a beautiful day. It's late May now, so the sun is warm. Casey stands by the edge of our pool with her arms crossed, lost in thought.

I clear my throat and speak. "Since Memorial Day is a little over a week away, I thought that would be a good time to open our pool. We can get a pool service out here this next week to clean it and fill it. And I thought maybe we could go shopping for some new outdoor furniture. We need some new poolside tables and some lawn chairs. How does that sound?"

Instead of answering, Casey walks away from me. She gazes into the empty pool, and then looks around at the furniture that's already out here. She turns back around and looks at me, wrinkling her nose. "God, yes. The last owners had terrible taste. We definitely need some new pool stuff."

I feel my heartbeat return to normal. She's engaged in what I'm saying and showing interest – this is good. So I play into it. I come up beside her and say, "Do I dare let you pick it out? It will be loud and very un-color coordinated."

Normally Casey would come back with some smart remark about how my taste is bland and I don't buy things that have any "pizzazz". But now she simply smiles in response.

I miss our easy banter almost as much as I miss Casey. But I know I can't be hasty and force it; it will come back on its own. Things _will_ be back to normal someday. I just have to keep telling myself that.

"Hey, Alex," Casey says , turning and looking right at me. "How about if buy a grill? A nice one. We could have a cookout for Memorial Day – invite all our friends, tell them to bring their swimsuits."

My first thought is that would be too overwhelming for Casey. That she's jumping in too quickly, and that many people at once is going to be more than she can handle. But then I remind myself that things have to normalize, and that I can't baby or shelter Casey forever. She has to be exposed to life again in order to heal. I have to allow her to do so. Besides, by that time her medication will have had a chance to work and she'll have had a few sessions with her therapist. She could possibly be feeling better. And she's always welcome to change her mind about the cookout.

So hesitantly I say, "Yeah? You want to?"

She looks back out over the pool and nods. "Yeah. I think it would be nice to have everyone over. And we would utilize the grill a lot."

So I agree, and we make plans to go shopping over the next few days. It's nice to see Casey excited about something, yet I can't shake the feeling that this isn't a good idea.

**So, Casey's home. How do you think this is going to go? Is Alex going to unintentionally overdo it? The next chapter is Casey's POV, so you will get to read her thoughts on her first night home. Any predictions for that? And what do you think about the Memorial Day cookout? Good idea - or not? **


	27. Chapter 27

**Here's a quick update :) Hope you enjoy!**

**Casey's POV**

I'm happy to be out of the hospital, but being back home is difficult. I feel so out of place and guilty about what happened here. Alex has been going out of her way not to mention that day but I know it's on her mind. How could it not be? The last time I was here I nearly died.

I know Alex is doing what she thinks is best for me but I don't like knowing she's walking on eggshells and being treated like a child. She's been watching every move I make like a hawk; she stood in the kitchen and watched me make a sandwich and I actually thought she was going to break out in applause and tell me "Good girl! Look at you!" I know she means well and she loves me – but it's putting a lot of stress on me. I feel like I have to constantly smile because if I don't, she'll think I'm suicidal again.

I understand why she wants to control my medication. I suppose if our roles were reversed I'd want to do the same thing. But still, I can't help but feel that she distrusts me. Which I guess she does, and it hurts. Alex and I built our relationship on the foundation of trust. If we can't trust each other then the relationship isn't solid. It's going to take time for me to completely gain Alex's trust back, and I think that hurts me more than anything else. To know that I made Alex not be able to trust me.

Alex has asked me about a dozen times if I'm sure about our cookout idea. Of course I'm not sure; I'm not sure about anything. But life has to get back to normal and I can't stay locked in the basement by myself all day anymore. I need to be around people. I need to at least try and get back into life. I think have some friends over would be a good start. Am I going to be able to handle it? I don't know. But I'm certainly going to try, for Alex. I need to show her I can stand on my own two feet again. She needs to go back to work, and in order to do that she needs to know I'm not at home wallowing in depression. What better way to accomplish that than throwing myself back into the game? If I can't handle a small get together with our friends, then there isn't a lot of hope for me.

I keep telling Alex I'm looking forward to therapy but the truth is that I'm dreading it. I've never believed that therapy works and I'm basically being forced into it. I know there's no way I can back out, but I also know there's no way I can sit there and talk about my deepest shame and feelings to a complete stranger. I'm going to be a closed book and it's going to take a lot for the therapist to be able to open me up.

Because really, how am I supposed to tell her? How am I supposed to tell her that everything that has happened is my fault, and so it's my responsibility to put it all back together again? I can't let Alex down again. She's done everything for me. She's the best wife anyone could ever ask for me. I can't hurt her anymore. Everything I do from now on is going to be for her.

We order a pizza and a watch a movie that we've both seen a million times. Alex chatters through the whole thing, which is usually my job. She's trying to make me feel comfortable and at home, but is going a little overboard. But I smile and toss in a comment occasionally just so she won't worry. I notice her constantly looking at my plate to make sure I'm eating. Being constantly monitored is making my anxiety level rise, so after the movie I excuse myself to take a shower – the one place that I know for sure Alex won't follow without my permission. The one place I can be alone.

I'm about to lock the bathroom door when Alex appears outside of it and calls my name. I open the door and look at her.

"Casey, just – " she searches for the right words.

"Just what?"

"Just be careful, okay?" she finally says.

I almost laugh. "Alex, I'm taking a shower. How many times have I showered? I know you don't trust me, but Jesus, I need to shower. You have to at least trust me enough to let me stand in the shower alone for ten minutes. I'm a grown woman. And besides, I'm sure you took all the pills out of here, so you don't have to worry."

That last comment was unnecessary and I notice Alex visibly flinch at my words. I hurt her. "Okay. If you need me, call me, okay?"

"If I need you for what? To help wash my hair? I think I can manage," I snap at her. I'm just about to shut the door when I toss out, "And don't stand outside the door. You're not a prison warden, Alex." Then I slam the door practically right in her face.

I'm shaking as I walk over to the sink and look in it. I barely recognize my own reflection – the girl looking back at me is not the girl I used to be. That girl never would have hurt her wife and wouldn't be continuing to do so now.

I'm crying now, despite all my best efforts not to. God damnit! Why do I have to keep losing it? Why did I snap at Alex? She is only hovering because she loves me. Why can't I accept that? Why do I keep trying to push her away? I promised myself I wouldn't.

I know the answer – because I still don't think I deserve her.

I stand there for several seconds staring at my reflection before I go over and turn on the shower. If Alex is outside the door I don't want her to hear me crying. I adjust the water temperature and slowly start to take my clothes off, letting them fall into a pile on the floor beside the shower.

And then – almost against my will – a vivid memory overpowers me.

_I'm standing in the shower rinsing my hair, the steam rising up around me. I'm humming a song I've been hearing on the radio lately, completely oblivious to the outside world._

_I've just tossed my hair over my shoulders and rinsed the final time, when someone grabs me from behind. They squeeze my middle today and I feel a fleshy warm body pressed up against my own. I let out a little yelp of surprise, and then I feel breath on my neck as they whisper, "Don't move – you're my hostage."_

_I feel myself relax as I recognize the sweet feminine voice rasping into my ear – my Alex. I turn around and find her completely naked and grinning ear-to-ear, her arms just waiting for me to be in them. I throw my arms around her and hug her tightly, tucking my head under her chin. "Alex! I thought you left already because you had an early meeting?"_

"_It got cancelled – so here I am. I heard the shower running and thought it would be the perfect time to slip in."_

_I just saw Alex twenty minutes ago, but it's like I haven't seen her in days. I don't want to let go of her. Environmentalists would be on my case right now if they knew how much water I'm wasting; it's hitting my back and going down the drain un-used. When I finally pull away from Alex, she touches my cheek and gazes into my eyes. She picks up a strand of my wet hair and curls it around her finger, still grinning at me. _

"_You're such a perv for walking in on me in the shower. What if I had another girl in here?" _

_Alex laughs, letting my hair fall back over my shoulders. "I don't think I have to worry about that."_

_I gasp. "So you're saying I'm not cute enough to attract any other girls?" I feign insult and cross my arms in front of my chest. "I'll have you know that my thing on the side just left."_

"_Oh?" Alex asks, raising an eyebrow. "She must not have been very good if she left already."_

_I giggle. "She couldn't handle me."_

_It's Alex's turn to laugh. "I understand that – you are too hot to handle sometimes. But pretty forgettable." _

"_Hey!" I should good-naturally, and I grab Alex again and push her towards the front of the shower so the water cascades down and saturates her body and her hair. She squirms to get out from under the showerhead, but I hold her there. We're both laughing and Alex starts begging for mercy. "Sorry – I don't have any mercy today."_

"_You trying to drown me?" Alex exclaims when I finally let her go. She brushes her wet hair out of her face and looks at me in amusement. "I already showered today."_

"_You're the one who got in here with me," I point out. "You should know what I'm capable of."_

_Alex takes my hand and kisses the back of it, running her thumb over my wedding ring. "Oh, I do know." She keeps hold of my hand for a moment before pulling me against her body. "You are so beautiful."_

By the time the memory has faded my hand is nearly numb from clutching the edge of the sink. Tears are streaming down my cheeks and I grab a wad of toilet paper to try and dry them.

God, I want that back. I want to shower with my wife and not feel like a stranger in my own home. I want to feel comfortable around Alex; I want to feel like _myself. _

I look at myself in the mirror, and I'm appalled. I haven't been this skinny in a long time. It almost looks unhealthy. My eyes appear almost sunken and I have bags underneath them. I certainly don't look like Casey Cabot any more. I reach up and touch my face just to make sure what I'm seeing is real.

Suddenly a voice from outside the door calls out, "Casey? Are you okay?" It's Alex.

I jump in surprise and quickly say, "I'm fine." I fumble for my watch on the counter, and when I look at it I realize I have been standing in the bathroom with the water on for over fifteen minutes.

I don't waste anymore time. I step into the shower, readjusting the water temperature before I surrender my head under the faucet and allow the warm water to saturate my hair.

It feels so good. It feels like I'm letting my troubles wash over me and now they're swirling around at my feet and going down the drain.

I grab my shampoo and lather up my hair. All the while I'm thinking about Alex and about our situation. I want things back to normal, and so does Alex. And there's only way that can happen. Only one way I can shower with my wife and start to feel like myself once more.

I have to try and get back out in the world and convince Alex I'm okay.

* * *

When it's time for bed, things get even more awkward.

I go into the bathroom to change into my pajamas. I have never done this before; I always change right in front of Alex and she changes in front of me. But I don't feel comfortable enough with letting her see me right now. Thankfully Alex doesn't comment about this strange arrangement, and when I return to the bedroom, she holds her palm and offers me three pills and a glass of water. The nighttime dosage of my pain, heart and anxiety medication.

I smile and pop all three pills, chasing them down with water. I'm grateful that Alex is looking out for me and making sure I'm taken care of, but I don't say so. Seeing the look on her face when I take the medication from her…I can't even describe it. So I figure it best not to dwell on it. I turn away from her and put the glass of water on the nightstand.

"Casey….I know this is hard for you," Alex finally says softly. "If it would make it easier, I'll go sleep on the couch."

That would make it easier, but I'm not about to admit that. What good would it do, anyway? I have to become comfortable with my wife sleeping in bed with me again. We can't spend our married lives sleeping separately. So I plaster on a smile and tell her, "No – it's okay. I don't think I'm ready to do anything right now, but…I want you in bed with me."

Alex smiles at that. I can tell it genuinely made her happy to hear that, and I feel my heart swell a little bit. It's so nice to see my wife smile and know that I'm the cause of it.

Alex gets ready for bed too and I get under the covers on my side. I feel so out of place. Usually we're cuddled together right now, giggling and about to make love. But now I just sit there dumbly as Alex emerges from the bathroom, switches off the light and comes over to the bed. She's wearing the nightgown I got her for Christmas last year. She looks so sexy in it.

The bedside lamp beside me is still on so I ask Alex if she wants me to turn it out. She leans against the headboard and asks, "Do you want to talk?"

I quickly shake my head. I was afraid of this. "No. I want to go to sleep."

She looks disappointed, but nods anyway. "Okay. Goodnight, Casey. I love you."

"I love you too," I quickly answer back. I switch out the lamp and as soon as we're bathed in darkness, I slide over as far as I can to the edge of the bed. It doesn't take me long to fall into an uneasy sleep.

I'm awakened in the middle of the night after being plagued with nightmares. The last one – the one that woke me up – was so vivid and horrible and that for a moment when I awaken, I fear I'm still in it.

I was back in that bedroom at Senator Palmer's house. Jenna was on top of me. I was screaming for help and trying to get her off of me, but she laughed evilly and held me down. She kept telling I was "dirty" and she was going to ruin me so Alex wouldn't love me anymore. I could actually _feel _her hand inside me.

I sit up in bed, gasping for breath. My pajamas are clinging to my sweaty back and I'm crying. I reach over and fumble for the lamp, knocking several items off the nightstand. I finally find the switch and turn it on.

Almost immediately, Alex is awake. She's alert, and a look of concern is written on her face. "Casey! Are you okay? What happened?"

She slides over to me but I put up my hand to stop her, placing the other on my chest to try and regulate my breathing. I can't be touched right now.

Alex respects my boundaries but asks again if I'm okay. I manage to look at her and nod. "A nightmare," I rush out.

I go to lie back down, but I feel wetness on the sheets by my legs. I look down and see a huge wet spot underneath me, and I realize to my horror that I've wet the bed.

I sit back up and start crying. "God, I'm sorry! I'm so disgusting!"

This time Alex does slide over to me. It's like she can't help herself. She places her hand on my back and gently says, "Baby, you're not disgusting."

She has no idea what has happened, so I point to the wet spot on the sheets. Her favorite sheets.

I go back to crying, and all Alex does is rub my back. "Okay, baby. It's okay. I'm not upset with you."

"I wet the bed!" I shout out, angry with myself and at this whole situation. "I'm so disgusting!" Before she can stop me, I go to get out of bed. "I'll clean it up. I'll get fresh sheets."

Alex grabs my wrist to stop me. I'm on the verge of panic, and Alex can tell. She smiles at me warmly. "No, you won't. Let's get you cleaned up, and then I'll put some clean sheets on the bed." She stands up and I let her take me by the hand and lead me over to the bathroom. I follow her silently, like a robot.

I'm trembling, so Alex grabs a towel from the cabinet and drapes it around my shoulders. She gives me a squeeze before going over to the shower and turning on the water. She adjusts it until I can see slight steam rising, just the way I like. Then I see her take my favorite bottle of body wash and a bar of soap and place it on the shower shelf.

She returns to me and gently takes the towel from me. Her eyes are so warm and loving, and all her actions show that she loves me very much. She got up with me in the middle of the night when she could have stayed in bed and let me handle this myself. She gives me another smile and says, "You want some help in the shower?"

My heart is just bursting with love for this woman. God, I love her so much! I shake my head and let some tears slip down my cheeks. I want to hug her so badly. I want her to hold me. But I remind myself that I just wet the bed. I _am _dirty, just like Jenna said. And it's going to take more than a shower to clean me up.

So I shake my head. As much as I want Alex to help me, I can't let her do this. This is my mess and I can clean it up. "I can manage. But thank you," I tell her.

Alex nods. She hesitates in front of me for several seconds. "Okay. I'm going to go change the sheets. Take as much time as you need."

I swallow. "Alex, I'm so sorry. I –"

"It's okay. I am not angry or upset at all; I promise." She bends down and gives me a kiss on the cheek. "I love you, Casey."

I can't say it back right now, so I just stand there as Alex exits the bathroom.

Why is this so hard? Why can I be better?

**Poor Casey :( What do you think? Is she trying too hard? Is it going to backfire? How do you think Alex is handing everything? The next chapter will contain the Memorial Day cookout. Stay tuned for that - I promise some action! Please leave me a review and let me know what you think!**


	28. Chapter 28

**Glad you are still enjoying the story :) I'm also glad that people like that Casey is improving. Thank you to those reviewing; I appreciate it, and here's the update.**

**Alex's POV**

Things improve over the next couple of days. Casey keeps taking her medication and has her first session with her therapist. I like her therapist – Dr. Snyder – as soon as she introduces herself to us in the waiting room. She's a middle-aged woman with a very friendly manner and doesn't seem shocked or uncomfortable at all to learn that we're a lesbian couple.

I didn't sit in on Casey's session; I waited in the waiting room. It was a very long hour and I was wracked with nerves. I hoped Casey was opening up at least a little and hoped this wasn't going to be too hard on her. I had visions of Casey breaking down and running past me in the waiting room in tears. But thankfully that hadn't happened. When Casey returned to the waiting room, she simply smiled at me and made her way to the front desk to make her next appointment. And when I caught up to her, she suggested we go to lunch.

Casey has been talking more, and though she still isn't completely herself, it's a welcome change. She's initiated hugs on more than one occasion and allows me to comfort her when she wakes with nightmares. Progress is slow, but I'm just thankful it's happening.

Casey hasn't talked to me about what happened and I still haven't been pushing her. That's what her therapy is for. I know there will be a time and a place for us to discuss it, but now was not it. I'm her wife, not her therapist. I have to keep reminding myself of that on several occasions.

Jenna has fallen off the radar, and that's made me very nervous. No one seems to be taking the situation seriously; but I know what she's capable of. The fact that no one knows where she is leaves me with an uneasy feeling in my stomach. Just because she hasn't made a threat doesn't mean she won't. When I'm not in control of a situation, I don't do well with it.

We've started being hounded by the press again. Somehow they got Casey's cell phone number and have been calling her nonstop for statements about "the incident". We were harassed by a reporter yesterday when we went out to eat; poor Casey got so upset that I thought she was going to cry. And me? I got so angry that I nearly turned as red as Casey's hair. These vultures can go find a story somewhere else; my wife is _not _a story.

A week after Casey is home, we find ourselves shopping for a new grill and other various items we're going to need for our cookout. I'm still not completely on board with this idea, but we've already invited some people from the DA's office and all our friends. Plus Casey seems to be looking forward to it, so I've held my tongue. If things get to be too much for Casey, I'll ask everyone to leave. But it may be good for her to see so many people care about her.

"Senator Palmer called me today," I tell Casey as I stand with the cart ready as she picks out some paper plates and plastic cups. "I invited him to the cookout."

Casey stops with her hand on one of the packages of cups. She slowly turns around and looks at me. All the color has drained from her face. "Is he coming? Why did he call?"

"He wanted to see how you were doing. He said he'd try and make it, but if you don't want him to come, I can call him back."

Casey quickly shakes her head and tosses three packages of plastic cups into the cart; one red, one blue and one white. "No, no. It's fine."

I know Casey – this is her being _not _fine and I'm immediately on alert. "Casey…want me to call him back?"

She picks out some paper plates and napkins with flags and fireworks designs and literally throws them into the cart. Then she holds up her hand as I start to call her name again. "Casey…"

"Alex – I said it was okay, didn't I? Drop it."

So I do. I veer the subject of course immediately. We walk down the next aisle to pick out some beverages, and I comment on the plates and cups Casey picked out. "You got the Memorial Day theme going on; I like it."

"Yeah, well it just makes sense," she answers quickly. She's going out of her way not to look at me again, and I feel my heart sink. She was talkative when we got to the store. Now she's sullen and withdrawn again.

I never imagined she would react so badly to Senator Palmer coming to the cookout – they always had a good relationship. But he was there that night, it happened at _his _house, and I know how embarrassed Casey is about having to resign from her job. I should have considered that before I invited him.

I let Casey pick out the beverages and she picks out Mountain Dew, Pepsi and Diet Pepsi. I have to smile at that; it's pretty typical Casey.

"What kind of grill do you want to get? One that's already assembled so we don't have to do it?" I ask as we start walking.

Casey shakes her head. "They're too hard to transport that way. I can put it together, no problem."

I don't second-guess or question her; I know better. Besides, I can probably help assemble it. It can't be that bad, can it?

We're heading towards the grill display when Casey surprises me with, "Alex, I think you should go back to work. You've taken enough time off."

I'm so surprised she's brought up this issue that I stop walking. I stand right in the middle of the aisle, blocking it with my cart. Casey looks at me in shock, and then takes my arm and makes me move to the side of the aisle so people can get around me. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to shock you," she tells me.

I shake my head. "It's okay. It's just…I'm not sure what I'm going to do about work yet, Casey. We still need to talk about the possibility of moving, and – "

"I don't want to move, Alex. Things suck around here right now, that's for sure. But this is our _home. _We just bought a house. Our friends are here, your job is here. You've always dreamed about being the District Attorney. We can't just walk away from all that."

"But, Casey…all I'm thinking about is you here," I confess.

"I know, and you shouldn't. You should think of yourself too. It doesn't make me feel good to know that you were considering this as a possibility. You love it here as much as I do. You love your job, you love our house, you love the city and our friends. Our parents live nearby. Think about this, Alex."

I know she's right; logically we shouldn't leave. But I keep thinking of the way we are constantly hounded by the press and the whispers and stares we receive when we go out. We're well-known people around the area, and right now we – especially Casey – have targets on our backs.

This is something we need to seriously discuss, and the aisle of the busy supermarket is not the place to do it. "We'll talk about this, Casey, I promise. How about at home tonight?"

"There isn't anything to talk about, Alex," Casey says. I can tell she's a bit worked up but is doing a good job maintaining her composure. "It's been on my mind and I just had to tell you what I think. It's adding to my stress, Alex, knowing that this is hanging in the air. I don't want you to leave your job and I don't want to leave our home. I'll be okay; I promise. I just need some time. Moving won't help speed it up."

I look at my beautiful wife and I know she's right. She's looking into my eyes as if begging for understanding. Her eyes look more alive than before, but she's not back to fully being my Casey yet. And she's right about that too; taking her away and moving to another state is not going to make that happen any sooner. In fact, it may slow it down. So many people care about Casey here, her doctors and therapist are here. I'd be taking her away from her entire support system – I can't do that.

I sigh heavily and I notice Casey smile. She can recognize when I'm relenting. "Okay – you're right. That doesn't mean I may not want to revisit this discussion at another time, but it's over for now; we're staying."

Casey throws her arms around me and hugs me. "Thank you, Alex. Thank you so much." It's a _real _hug, with real meaning and emotion and I savor every moment of it. I'm aware of fellow shoppers staring at us, the two crazy women with a cartful of soda and party supplies hugging in the third aisle of the busy supermarket, but I don't care. Let them stare.

When Casey pulls away from me, I smile at her. Normally she would kiss me now too and I hold onto hope that she will, but she doesn't. She just quickly pulls away from me and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear nervously, looking away from me to the tiled floor.

I feel my heart drop a little but I don't get discouraged. I keep reminding myself that this is going to take time and that Casey is doing better than I ever expected. She's initiating contact with me; that's a good thing. She's excited about our cookout; also a good thing. And she's thinking about _us._

We let the subject drop for now and get to work looking at grills. Casey picks out the biggest one they have – naturally – and after tracking down a store employee, we get it loaded in the back of Casey's jeep courtesy of the store. A very nice gesture, but we still have to get the big box out ourselves at home.

We pay for our purchases and head out to the parking lot after Casey makes a quick pit stop to the restroom. The grill takes up most of the room in the back of Casey's jeep, so we strategically place the plastic bags around it. By the time we're done, we're both laughing; the bags look like a force field around the grill.

It's so nice to hear Casey laugh; it nearly brings tears to my eyes. I know if I cry it will only make Casey more anxious, so I manage not to. I'm choosing to just enjoy Casey the way she is.

Her lightness is short-lived though. We're both in the car and buckled up, but Casey doesn't start the ignition. Instead, she grips the steering wheel tightly and turns to look at me, a serious expression gracing her beautiful features.

"You should go back to work the Monday after the holiday," she tells me.

I swallow harshly. That's just a week away; that's too soon. "Casey…that's too soon. I can't leave you alone."

"Alex – " Casey sighs and chooses her words. "I know you want to be with me because you love me. But I don't need constant supervision. I'm on my meds, I'm getting therapy. It makes me nervous that you're constantly watching every move I make. Not to make you feel bad, but you going back to work would be good for us both."

Her words aren't meant to hurt me, but they do, even though I do understand what she's saying. "But this is one day at a time, Casey. You can't predict what's going to happen tomorrow."

"I know that. But I'm not suicidal anymore, Alex. If I started getting bad thoughts when I was alone, I promise you I'd call you or Dr. Snyder. You can call and check up on me as much as you want while you're at work. That won't bother me. But don't babysit me, Alex. I'm your wife. You have to have some trust in me."

I swallow harshly again. I agree with everything she is saying, but that doesn't make it any easier to accept. Besides, Jenna is out there; I don't want Casey being alone in that house with Jenna out there somewhere. We have an excellent security system and a dog, but that doesn't protect against everything.

"What will you do? Are you going to consider going back to work for Senator Palmer? Or do you want to stay home?"

"I'll find a job. I'll give it another couple of weeks and then I'll find a job. I'll find something in law again, when I'm ready."

"You don't have to work, Casey," I tell her.

And that was the wrong thing to say. Casey looks at me, her eyes wide. "So I'm supposed to live off you the rest of my life? Stay in our fancy ass home without contributing anything? I'm _that _damaged?"

Shit; she is taking this completely the wrong way. I know I have to tread very lightly or she's going to panic. I have to use my words very carefully.

"No – Casey, that isn't what I meant. I just mean you shouldn't rush into anything. Especially any kind of stressful job; not right now."

"I can't just do nothing. What Jenna has done to me, it – " Casey stops talking and looks away from me out her window before looking back. "I want to live again."

It does my heart good to hear that. I know Casey means it. I can see the sincerity in her eyes. I know I have to allow her room to get back to her old self on her own. I can't crowd or coddle her too much. Casey is an independent woman. As hard as it's going to be for me – I have to let her go. I have to let her do this.

This is what love and marriage is all about; compromise. Giving the other person room to grow and respecting their wishes and boundaries, no matter how difficult it may be to you.

"Okay. But please do give it a few weeks?"

Casey nods. "I will. I won't start looking for something until a couple weeks have passed, I promise."

That makes me feel better about the whole thing. I'll never be okay with it, but at least I feel a little better. I love Casey so much and I don't want her to relapse.

"You're a good wife, Alex," Casey says suddenly. "I love you. I'm so sorry for what I've put you through. I'm going to get better for you; you just have to believe in me."

Casey is staring at me, so I take her hand and squeeze it. "I _do _believe in you, Casey. Completely."

She smiles and finally starts the car. Neither of us are speaking as we pull out of the parking lot, but there is lots on my mind.

Including the fact that I have to tell Casey about what happened with Jenna and I'm running out of time to do it.

**So what do you think? Alex going back to work and eventually Casey too a good idea? She is improving; do you think she will continue to improve? The cookout will be in the next chapter. Does something happen there? Well of course, but you'll have to read to find out what. Leave me a review and let me know what you think of this chapter.  
**


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